The Fire Burns Bright
by ADG7
Summary: As the seven kingdoms join to witness the greatest tournament in history at Harrenhal, and the long-hidden King Aerys the wise, sane after all, appears in front of his lords, seeking a bride for his son, how will the story of Westeros change? Will the long-standing peace continue, or will war come, as it has come so many times before? Alternate story, with both Got and ASOIAF
1. The Tourney At Harrenhal

Hello everyone! I bid you welcome to my first story, which will work around Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, Ned Stark and Ashara Dayne and many others! This will be an overall happy story, with some few cruel and bad moments, but mainly happy! I ask you to give your ideas, suggestions and criticisms. Thank you for reading! This is my first story, and I'm not a good writer, but I will do my best! Thank you again!

* * *

**AERYS TARGARYEN, 281 AFTER THE CONQUEST, HARRENHALL**

Dread. That was the only thing Aerys felt as his wheelhouse got closer and closer to Harrenhall. I shouldn't have accepted Whent's bloody offer, the seven curse me. The cheers, shouts and screaming of hundreds of women, men and children just made it all worse, as he was sure that his progress was getting closer to the tourney grounds. The small folk and the lords will be happy to see Rhaegar, his good and strong and fair son, he knew. Thank the gods I told him to ride ahead of the wheelhouse. I shouldn't have come, I should have told Tywin or Steffon or Rhaegar to come and represent the crown. Duskendale. This will be another Duskendale, a voice in his head said. No, another voice snapped, feeling like a dagger stabbing through his head. I am king, and my people must know I live, and they need to see me. And I need to see them. As his eyes finally moved away from the small splinter of wood near the thankfully closed window of the carriage, he felt something touch his left hand. A calm, soft and soothing touch. He turned his head, looking at his sister, his queen by the will of his father. Beautiful as ever... Good queen Rhaella married againt's her will to her brother. He, who had once dreamed of marrying Joanna, but now felt nothing for her, but was attracted to the sister he had scorned for years. What a fool I am. I should have treated her as the perfect woman she is. Fuck. Thankfully I woke up after Duskenda-..

"Ouch! What the hell was that for!" He said, finally waking from his thoughts, as his sister sported a frown, rubbing his hand with her left and retreating her right after having slapped him.

"You were daydreaming again, brother. What is it this time?" she asked, her head tilting perfectly to the side, a look of worry in her eyes.

"It-It's nothing. I was thinking about the pools in Dragonstone, do you remember? Those pools. How I wished I would have gone there, instead of letting Whent trick me into organizing this tourney." He finished, with a sigh, while a soft chuckle escaped Rhaella's lips.

"Oh, brother... You still think too highly of yourself. Yes the pools are amazing, yes I want to see them again too, but I want you to tell me what's truly on your mind." She said as he felt her hand running through his now much shorter hair. I still feel strange, with hair so short. A sudden pinching of the skin in his right arm woke him. "Alright, alright, I will tell you, but you need to promise to stop pinching me, your king. It's getting embarrassing, you know." He said, with a small smile.

Rhaella responded with a mischevious smirk of her own, before her hands moved to his face, cupping it as her hands caressed his small beard. "I'm afraid I can't promise that, big brother. But now, I want you to stop worrying about this. It's just an introduction and a small feast, and then, the tourney starts! You're still charming, brother! I'm sure you can do it. In fact, I'm forcing you to do it." She said, giving her another of her soft smiles. He hated this, for fuck's sakes. He was the older brother, the one she had been forced to marry, and yet she still takes care of me. I don't deserve her, not as a sister, not as a wife, not as the woman I lo- No, I can't think of her like that.

"Plus, if I fail, our boy is always there to clean up my mess, along with you, Tywin and Steffon, yeah?"

"You won't make a mess, stupid! You're a much better man," A gulp moved down her throat, and she shook her head, but looked at him again with determined eyes," A much better man and a much better king now than when you were crowned, and they loved you back then, how will they not be able to love you now?" She stated and asked, saying it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Alright! Alright. I'll try. Now, can you fix my doublet? I look horrible, I must look horrible."

Rhaella started to tug at his collar, chuckling. "You look handsome, idiot. Oh, my fool of a brother." Her lips. Her lips are so damn close. She's smiling. Don't smile, please, he told himself, as his eyes stared at her lips. I just hope she doesn't see what I'm doing. How wanton I am. With a lot of effort, he pulled those thoughts away, helping his sister fix his clothes. She sat back at his side with a smile, just a Ser Jonothor Darry, one of their kingsguard open the door to the wheelhouse, his voice silenced by the thousands of shouts and cheers outside.

"Your grace, we are here." And with a nervous sigh, he got on his feet.

* * *

**The Starks**

"There," Benjen all but screamed, pointing his finger at the huge mass of people moving in a line towards the tourney grounds, "The Royals are coming, look!" All four siblings turned towards, Ned, Bran, Ben and Lya, at the head of the mass of northern lords who were here for the biggest tourney ever, even they, northerners had come! The biggest tourney ever, she chuckled. These southerners will so outdo one another.

"Oi is that the king coming on that fucking stallion?! Gods, that horse..! Lyanna jerked her head in Bran's direction, then at the black warhorse, carrying a man in black armour with the dragon of House Targaryen in his chest, a three-headed dragon made of rubies, with a dragon helmet hiding his head, as he rode beside two of the kingsguard, who had recently been cut short by one, with the death of Ser Harlan Grandison. Ned, quiet Ned, her sweet brother, even he couldn't contain his excitement, even he! "No Bran, that's the prince! The king is coming in the wheelhouse!"

"How can you be sure?! Did you dream of where and how the king is bloody coming?!"

"No, but it's obvious, Bran! Everybody knows his grace doesn't ride since Duskendale!" Ned said, angrily at his eldest brother, who had been teasing all of them since the morning, he had treated Ned like a child in front of Jon Arryn, Ned's foster father, had already fucked one of the serving girls, and had dragged Benjen in front of a mass of ladies from the reach, who all giggled at her younger brother, who turned tomato red at all the women in front of him.

"Look! They're getting closer!" Ben once again, woke them from their usual family rambling, as the wheelhouse of the king first passed by the dornish, headed by a tall and slender man, with black hair, black eyes and a sharp features, especially his nose, and the tanned skin of the Rhoynar. Prince Doran, that must be him she thought. In front of them, we're the valemen, with Jon Arryn and his nephew, who squired with Prince Rhaegar himself, proudly standing by his uncle, the proud falcon of Arryn flying in a banner behind them. Next to them and in front of the northerners, the ironborn, much fewer than all others, but with a tall and muscular man, with scars of greyscale on his face, at his side a rather huge fellow, both with the Kraken of house Greyjoy on their clothes and themselves along with various lords from the north, Greatjon, representing his father and house Umber, one of Lord Karstark's uncles, William Dustin, lord Hornwood and one of the sons of Lord Manderly. Then, the stormlords with lord Steffon and his two older sons, Robert, who had Ned try to convince her father to have him marry her, although her father refused, thankfully, and lord Stannis, who squired along with Elbert Arryn for the prince Rhaegar. Then, the westermen with young Jaime Lannister and one of his uncles in the front, then the reachmen and then the Rivermen, with Lord Hoster Tully himself beside lord Walter Whent.

A lot of people, she thought. A lot of fucking people. All for a damned southern tourney! Even if it was the first time the king had left King's Landing since Duskendale, and the realm was curious to see the king for themselves and end the thousands of rumours that had started since the defiance.

There was a huge ruckus, as ladies and lords spoke with each other, waiting for the royalty to finally settle, but they didn't have to wait long, as the sound of seven trumpets, as a herald announced the king, the queen and the princes.

All stood quiet as the man with plate armour as black and dark as night, slowly dismounted his horse and walked next to the Herald, taking his helmet adorned in the sides with dragon wings and with streamers of silk along the middle, making it look as if a dragon was breathing fire from his head. As he gave his helmet to the knight in white armour next to him, Ser Barristan Selmy, if she had to bet, she moved her eyes to his face and suddenly felt a knot form inside her stomach. Gods, he's so handsome. His hair is so silver, his eyes so purple and dark, and he's so tall. He must be taller than the Greatjon, I'm sure of it. She felt unable to look away from him, the valyrian prince, the most handsome man in the seven kingdoms stood in front of her, and she had to say his reputation was true. The blood of the dragon and even the gods, the septons and priests and commoners said the targaryens had, and, looking at the figure of perfection standing in front of her, she was sure they were right.

"Ned, Ben, look! It seems little Lya is fawning over someone..!" Bran said, laughing along Ned and Benjen, and soon the group of Stark bannermen behind them caught on.

"Shut up, you idiot! I'm not fawning over anyone!" She spat back, but this only made her bully of a big brother laugh more, blood drowned her cheeks, making her blush.

"You're blushing, just admit it, you find the prince fancy!" Benjen joined in with Brandon, while Ned stayed behind, smiling at the scene.

"I-I'm not blu-" She was saved by the sounding of another round of the trumpets, as the herald started to scream again.

"Please welcome his grace, Aerys the second of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First men, lord of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm, shield of all his people and his queen, Rhaella Targaryen, queen of all Westeros!".

A broad-shoulder man, in grey armour with the Targaryen sigil displayed on his breastplate, tall and large, with the white cloak of the kingsguard flowing from his shoulders down his back, opened the door to the wheelhouse, and the first to step out was the queen, then the young prince Viserys, and finally, the king.

The queen looked amazing. Her grace wore a dress made of black silk, many rubies and amethysts stitched around her collar, adorned with other various silks and laces, her long silver hair reaching down her waist and her bright purple eyes shone in the light along with the jewels in her dress. The young prince hid behind his mother's skirts, dressed in a simple black tunic as his curious indigo eyes looked at the mass of lords in front of him. The king was the surprise in the three.

Lyanna remembered all the rumours that had reached Winterfell. The king had turned into a dragon, his skin having turned into black dragon scales, to others, his nails had grown and become dragon claws, while others said he had lost all hair and become bald, others that he now looked like Aerys the first, others Maegor the cruel, others Aegon the conqueror and others his great grandfather, King Maekar, and if she remembered all the portraits and drawing she had seen in her book about the Targaryen family with her mother and Ned, she assumed king Aerys looked more like King Maekar.

King Aerys was sporting a black doublet with flashes of red, along with boots of black leather that reached almost his knee. He had short hair that stayed by his head, along with a square cut trimmed beard, shorter than his eldest son but much bigger than his wife, with a gracious frame, neither too muscular neither too thin. He wore a proud look on his face, but his eyes went from a pale purple that seemed almost rose to her to a pitch black purple, and she was sure his hand was trembling, even from the distance, although it stopped when the queen moved closer to the king and took his hand, although quickly made to hide it with her body.

The king looked around, the nobility of the seven kingdoms staring at their king in utter silence, waiting for the man they had all come to see. The king, who was being approached by a tall man with the golden lion of Lannister on his chest, moved forward on his own and raised his unused arm with a smile.

"My lords! I bid you welcome to the royal tourney of Harrenhal, the biggest ever in the history of our kingdoms! Now come, into the hall, I wish to see you all and to enjoy your fine company!" The king shouted, and suddenly all the men erupted into roars and cheers, flooding the castle, while lord Whent scratched his head and moved to the king, all the while staring at the mass of lords running inside. As was expected, the Lords Paramount and some of their chosen lords stayed back, as, by custom, they would have a few minutes with the king himself before the feast in the hall. Neither Bran nor most of the high lords seemed to have been expecting the king to fulfil this custom, but when Steffon Baratheon, the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands and lord of Storm's End, and his two sons, Robert and Stannis, moved forward, the bulky, black-haired lord sporting a large grin as he moved in the direction of the king.

"Aerys, there you are cousin! I was worried that you wouldn't come to your own tourney!" Lord Steffon quickly moved and hugged the king, laughing all the meanwhile, the king himself chuckling and patting the much taller Baratheon lord in the back. Lord Tywin, that had moved to the side of the king before, looked in disappointment at the two, and was clearly about to say something, but was shut down by the storm lord, who quickly placed his other arm around his neck and pulled him into the hug, roaring all the while.

All the other lords, including Brandon, Elbert Arryn and the prince himself laughed at the scene, while the other lords present held back their laughter beneath smirks and smiles. After a long scolding about how they hadn't seen each other in a long while, and lord Steffon slapping Lord Tywin's back rather too harshly, the men separated, the King grinning, moving back near the queen who was quickly kissed on the cheek by Lord Steffon as well. King Aerys grabbed his wife's hand and murmured something into her ear, which made the queen chuckle.

"Oh well, I guess it's my turn now, come on, little pups." Bran teased, followed by Ben and Ned, along with Will Dustin and the Greatjon, not even waiting for her.

"Wait for me, you idiots!" She almost shouted, running to stand in the middle of Benjen and Eddard, hearing a snicker from Bran.

"Your grace! It is a pleasure to meet you in the name of house Stark and the north. May I present to you, myself, Brandon Stark, heir to Winterfell, my brothers, Eddard and Benjen, and my sister, Lyanna. The men with us are William Dustin, lord of Barrowton, and Jon Umber, heir to the Last Hearth." All men fell to their knees, and Lyanna sighed as she was forced to curtsy in her dress, which really wasn't helping her. I hate dresses, I should have brought my breeches. I'm sure the king and the queen wouldn't mind.

The king waved his hand, saying "Rise, rise my lords. No need for that." After that, he moved to shake the Stark men in the hand, followed closely by the prince of Dragonstone, eventually both men kissing her hand, Lyanna almost leaping from the floor as the prince pressed his lips to her knuckles. After that, they moved to Will and finally Jon, but the king stopped and raised a brow at the young Umber.

"How's your father, lad?"

"Y'grace?!".

"I assume you're little Jon. Brun Umber's son."

"Aye, that is me, your grace. Do ye know my father?" Jon asked, clearly shocked but quickly moving back into his normal self.

"Of course, didn't he ever tell you. He saved my life on the Stepstones. Even took my helmet and cut my hair, saying something about "Sorry m'prince, but that damned hair makes you look a wildling cunt for these golden cunts". Jon roared into laughter as the king imitated his father's voice.

"That sounds like him. He's fine, even if he's grown bitter since Wildlings killed my mother. And it's the Greatjon now, ye grace."

The king raised a brow, before suddenly coming to the realization and chuckling. "I can see why."

"Daddy is lord Jon a giant?! Everybody turned their eyes to the youngest prince, who was holding his father's leg while staring in awe at the Greatjon.

"Ask him yourself, my little dragon." With that, the king nudged the young prince forward, who seemed embarrassed, just like Ned looked when Brandon tried to get girls for him.

"Are you a giant, lord Jon?!"

"Nay little prince, but I'm sure I could kill one. Here, look at this beauty."

The Greatjon kneeled in front of the boy prince and showed him his ugly greatsword, which was three times bigger than the prince.

"Ucky! It's big but it's ugly! You need a better-looking sword, Lord Umber! Like, Like! Uhm... Our Blackfyre! Or maybe the Ice of the Starks!" Lyanna felt proud as their family sword was mentioned by the small prince, but was quickly brought out of her thoughts by the small boy, who came near her.

"My lady is it true Lord Stark's sword is made of Ice?! And that there are dragons beneath Winterfell?! The purple eyes of the boy stared into hers, curiosity swimming in them.

"No no, my prince. Ice is our valyrian steel sword, just like dark sister and blackfyre for your family! And I've never found any dragons, but maybe if you come to Winterfell one day, maybe they will come to you and you can fly them!" Lyanna said, smiling at the young prince before her. She was sure Bran was going to chide her for kneeling in the dirt before the royal family, but she paid no mind.

"Are you going to be my new sister, lady... uhm... Stark!" Viserys asked her, his eyes shifting to Greatjon, who stuck his tongue out at him, making the small boy chuckle.

"It's Lyanna, my prince. Call me Lyanna. And it would be my pleasure to be your sister if you want me to." She said, her hands moving to boy's silver hair before the realisation came to her. How stupid she was.

"Alright Viserys, come to mommy now, my little dragon.

"Coming, mother."

The prince went to his mother, and Lyanna looked and saw that most of the men were talking, with Jon Arryn and the other lords having joined in. She looked at the queen, knowing she had overstepped her boundaries, but the queen just gave her a smile as she pulled the prince into her arms.

He meant if I was going to marry his brother. If I was going to become his sister... Sister-in-law.

* * *

**The end! A mainly introductory chapter, focused on Aerys, who is clearly different from the canon story, and the starks, mainly focused on Lyanna. If you didn't guess it, Rhaegar isn't married yet in this timeline. Well, I hope you enjoyed it, leave your comments and suggestions below.**


	2. The Feast Of Hearts

Hello everyone, in this chapter we will meet Howland Reed and many others! I hope you enjoy it, and once again, leave your suggestions below!

* * *

**Lyanna Stark, the afternoon after the arrival of the royal family**

Lyanna was walking down a path near where the northerners coming to see the royal tourney had set up their tents, between the tents set up by the Rivermen and the men of the Vale, brooding. She knew that this tourney was more than most thought. A chance for glory and coin for knights and men all over Westeros, but the fact that all the families in the realm had brought their women with them was really just a confirmation of what her father was certain of. The king and the queen would use the tourney to choose a wife for the prince of Dragonstone, Rhaegar Targaryen, or perhaps the prince would choose himself, that she didn't know. She had to admit, he was handsome, even if he did look sad, especially when away from his friends and his family, but he did seem kind and courteous. She had observed him in the rather large morning meeting just before, where the king and queen had announced the tourney, the prizes, who where quite high, 350000 gold dragons for the winner of the joust, that without considering all the rest, the melee, the archery competition, the singing competition, there even was a riding competition! Such a waste of bloody coin! Also, the feast at night, which had lord Walter Whent stay inside the famous hall of a hundred hearths, which didn't even have half of those hundred, shouting and screaming orders, while poor lady Shella stayed in the kitchens after the morning feast and was still in it. Five bloody hours later.

She had hoped Ben would have come with her, but he had decided to stay with Brandon and Ned, who had organized a small party between all their horrible friends. Robert Baratheon, who was still trying to convince Brandon and Ned to convince father to give him her hand, the cunt. She was angered by the fact that this dumb southern knight even though she'd let him touch her, especially when he was already rumoured to have fucked a kitchen maid in the morn. Lord Steffon had been found beating his oldest child, calling him the most awful of names. And he deserved it, she told herself. Then you had all of Bran's friends, Ethan Glover, Kyle Royce and some Mallister she didn't know the name off, all drunkards and as dirty as Bran was.

But soon, she was brought out of her thoughts by the screaming and shouting of four people. She got closer, curious to see why we're people shouting, but when she got closer and finally saw, she felt a fit of burning anger shake her body. Three boys, none older than sixteen, probably, we're beating another one in the floor, who was crying and whimpering, trying to fight them off as best he could, while the other three boys just laughed and mocked him. She was that just after a kick to the gut, one of the boys screamed "SWAMP RAT!" with the one to his left following him with "You should have stayed in the neck, dwarf!". She knew it then, the man being kicked and shoved was a crannogman, one of her father's bannermen. She knew what she had to do next.

She quickly picked up a stick from the ground and rushed off in their direction, she screamed "That's my fathers bannermen you're beating, you idiots," finishing just as she reached behind the tallest of the boys, hitting him in the back off his head with the stick, "Get off him!".

"OUCH," the boy rubbed his brown hair, cursing and spitting, while the other two turned around with him.

"You bitch, what do you think you're doing?!" Screamed the one to the left.

"That man is a bannerman to my father, you dumb idiots! What do you think you're doing?!" She spat right back at him, holding her stick with both hands.

"We're teaching the dwarf a lesson, you dumb whore!" Said the one in the right, who had a black pitchfork on a golden bend on his tunic, the sigil of House Haigh.

"You're cowards! Beating one man, three to one! Cowards!" She spat, flailing her stick in her hand in an attempt to scare them.

The one in the middle, who was wearing a simple brown tunic, started walking forward, showing her his tightened fist, grinning, showing off his yellow, crooked teeth.

"Maybe we're going to teach this one a lesson as well, aye lads?! He said, and the others started laughing, all three walking towards her just as the one in the middle made a run to grab her.

Grab her he did not because quickly his face met the gauntlet of a knight, who quickly moved in front of her.

"What is the meaning of this, boys? Trying to rape the poor lady?" A man said in a dark tone, a snicker escaping his lips after he finished. Looking at his back, she could only see the huge white cloak that ran to his feet.

"N-No, Se-Ser. We-We-..."

"We will be kindly running off, ser. Won't you," The man said in a humorous tone, laughing along with another man, tall and muscular, with the grey-white armour of the kingsguard, and the same white cloak, who placed a hand on the other kingsguard's shoulder "Let them off, Oswell. They're just boys.", who was quickly met with more laughter from the man in front of her, who kept laughing "Of course, ser Mornin', maybe we should have them clean your milky sword as a punishment."

They both laughed even more, while the three boys just kept trembling and shivering, scared to their deaths. Eventually, they were both silenced when a man wearing a dark tunic with red stripes came forward, silencing them both. The prince, Lyanna quickly caught on, but she didn't care, immediately moving to the hurt crannogman.

"Apologize to the lady and the lord, and then you can go, my lords." The prince said in a quiet tone, sad and melancholic, as he stood in between his kingsguard.

"We-We apologize, your grace! We are truly sorry!" And with that, they started running off, disappearing in the distance.

She kneeled beside the small man from the neck, the sigil of House Reed displayed on his dirty and beaten tunic, blood oozing from his head. "What's your name, my lord? Let me help you stand up." And with that, she took his hand and helped him stand, as he quickly started apologizing "I-It's Howland Reed, my lady. I'm sorry, I knew a man of the neck shouldn't have come to a tourney."

She felt the anger flare in her, burning at her skin to see how affected poor Lord Howland was. She wanted to scream a thousand things, of how just because he was smaller than they didn't mean he was less, of how he was a lord, just like them, but another man spoke before she could say anything.

"Nonsense, small lord. This is my brother's bloody tourney, and the king's, every noble in Westeros was invited, aye, just because you're of a smaller folk and a bog devil, doesn't mean you can't attend, aye aye." Said the man she now recognized as Ser Oswell Whent, who stood to the left of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, who had to his right, the tall, raven-haired and purple-eyed Sword of the morning, Ser Arthur Dayne.

"Ser Oswell speaks true, Lord Reed. My father organized the tourney for all the people in Westeros, and the men from the neck were invited and are welcomed by the Crown and Lord Whent." The prince led his dark destrier to the front, patting it gently in the side. "Come, let us take you to a maester. And Lady Lyanna as well." And with that, the tall and handsome prince glanced at her, his sad purple eyes warming at the sight of her dirty face and dirty clothes, a ghost of a smile on his lips. He knows my name, Lyanna thought immediately.

"Lord Reed is a vassal of House Stark, your grace. I will take him to our tents, if you won't mind, of course. It is our responsibility." She said, thankful for his care, but decided to take care of Howland himself, as he was from the north, just like her. The prince continued looking at her, his face emotionless, but his eyes seemed like wide pools of emotion. Which emotion, she didn't really know.

"At least, let us escort you, my lady. And at least call a maester." He stated, not letting her respond as he turned towards the black bat of the kingsguard, "Ser Oswell, go please fetch a maester from the royal apartments and meet us by the northern tents. Arthur, come with me, please." She was surprised by his keen use of 'please', but quickly nodded in agreement, knowing that he would only insist more and more on escorting them.

And with that they started walking, Ser Arthur lifting Howland on top of the prince's steed, while Reed himself just stared in awe at the Sword of the Morning, who started laughing and made conversation with the Lord of the Neck, while she walked quietly beside the prince, who quickly apologized for not properly introducing himself, and they quickly made small-conversation, where Lya was seriously surprised. After mistakingly slipping and making a comment about a reach lord's appearance, a very un-ladylike one, she cursed in her head, the prince ignored her apology and just laughed, and she with him, as they continued walking as he continued asking more and more questions, about the north, about her horses, about her bow, about her family, about Winterfell, about the wall. They talked for what she felt we're hours until they reached the Stark tents.

"Oh. It seems we are here, lady Stark. And so is Ser Oswell and the maester." He gestured towards Ser Whent, closely followed by a brown-haired man, with a chain around his clothes and carrying a sack.

"I thank you for escorting me and Lord Reed, your grace. I apologize for making you lose your time." She said, lacing her hands in her front and curtsying to the prince.

"It is no trouble, my lady. It was a pleasure talking with you." And with that and a kiss to the back of her hand, the prince of Dragonstone turned around and left quickly, shouting starting at the camp as the men noticed the prince walking amongst them. Lyanna entered the tent quietly, her ears being invaded by Bradon's laughter and Benjen's scolding for having left without him, all under Ned's caring stare. Lyanna didn't have time for them, not now. Just as she felt a flare run from her breast to her hairline, her hand rubbing the spot where the prince had kissed it.

* * *

**Ned Stark, Hall Of A Thousand Hearths**

The scent and noises of the feast invaded his senses. The first course, of twenty that were to follow, had just been served, and Ned and all his siblings were dressed in the colours of their house, the boys with the grey and white of House Stark, and Lyanna with a simple, sleeveless blue gown. In their table, a quite large one at that, sat other lords of the North like Ethan Glover, son of the master of Deepwood Motte, Wyman Manderly, Lord of White Harbour, Willam Dustin, lord of Barrowton, Rickard Karstark, Greatjon Umber and Howland Reed, who was given a position of honour besides the Starks. Robert, who somehow had escaped the clutches of his father and had found his way to sit between Brandon and him, was completely quiet, shivering under lady Cassana Baratheon's stare. _There's a death stare if I've ever seen one._

At the High Table, sat the king and the queen, along with the prince of Dragonstone and the young prince Viserys. Dressed in the colours of their house, the royal family could not be more picture perfect. The king was wearing a black coat, with the red three-headed dragon stitched onto his breast, and upon his brown sat a crown made with a single gold band set with seven gemstones of different colours, forged recently and made in the image of the crown of the conciliator himself. The queen, sat to the left of the king, wore an intricate silken gown that came to her shoulders, with long sleeves with red details that looked like dragon flame, a slender crown of red gold set with rubies and roses and had her head turned to the king, giving him a smile that Ned could only describe as toothy and mischevious. To the right of the king, Prince Rhaegar wore a simple black doublet, made of faux leather and cotton velvet, looking truly royal, while holding his young brother in his lap, that was wearing a simple tunic of red and black.

The chattering continued on for a while until both the king and queen rose to their feet, all men and women standing up and bowing their heads to the royals, silence taking over the large hall. The king started to speak, having an arm wrapped around the queen's waist in what seemed a comforting and protective embrace, despite the king looking much more uncomfortable than the queen.

"My lords, My ladies. Once again, I bid you welcome to this great tourney, the greatest our realm has ever seen!" The king stated, rather proudly, loud cheers erupting from all tables before falling back into silence, letting the king continue.

"First, I would like to thank Lord Walter Whent and lady Shella, for so graciously hosting us these 10 days. It has been a long time since so many men from all the seven kingdoms wherein one place, united to drink and feast and fight and joust," The king turned then to the smallest but loudest table, the one in the extreme left. "My lords from the Iron Islands, it has been a long time since I have seen you and Lord Quellon. How fares he?" The King asked, the Ironborn quickly jumping up to their feet, two tall and powerfully built men with the sigil of House Greyjoy, one with a bull-like chest, the other one leaner and muscular, scarred by greyscale on the left side of his face, which quickly identified him as the heir to the Iron Islands, Harlon Greyjoy, at the head of the table.

"My lord father is ill, your grace, and he asks forgiveness for being unable to attend. Although, he has sent me and my brother Victarion here to win the melee for our people." The Iron Lord said with a smirk, which was followed by sneers and laughter from all tables.

The King himself chuckled, giving Greyjoy a nod, before following up the other tables, the table with Westerlanders, headed by the Hand of the King, Tywin Lannister, then the table with the Reachlords, headed by Mace Tyrell, then the Dornish table, with Prince Oberyn, then the table with the men of the Vale, headed by Lord Arryn, Ned's foster father, followed by the table of the Rivermen, with Hoster Tully, then the Baratheon table, the King granting Lord Steffon a large smile, and finally, the northern table.

"Ah, young Lords and Lady Stark, " The king said, giving them four a nod, which they answered with a bow, Ned seeing little Prince Viserys whispering something in his brother's ear while pointing towards the Greatjon, "It is a pleasure to see so many Northmen in the South. It was finally time you took to jousting." The king said while lifting his goblet.

"Aye, your grace, the first one we participate in and the first one we win, aye aye!" Brandon stated proudly, which was followed by loud cheers and shouts from the table.

The queen laughed, while the king waved his hand which silenced the hall once again.

"It is also my pleasure to announce the betrothal of my second son, Prince Viserys, to the lady Lynesse of House Hightower, and they shall marry in the Sept of Baelor in nine years." The King spoke, and soon murmurs and whispers started along the hall, before the heir to Oldtown, Baelor Hightower and Elia Martell, his pretty but plain new wife rose to their feet and both bowed deeply, "House Hightower is honoured to once again be linked to House Targaryen in marriage, your grace." He said, both he and his wife sitting once again.

The King once again opened his mouth to speak, before a man with the Golden Tree of the Rowans jumped to his feet and shouted "Your grace, you cannot be serious! Everyone knows what happened the last time a Hightower married into the royal family!" Being quickly followed by another man, with the black ravens and dead weirwood tree of the Blackwoods, "Aye, your grace, she crowned her usurper son and tried to steal the throne from the rightful heir!" Soon, the hall erupted into shouts, threats, with a few men jumping on the tables and provoking fights.

"GREEN CUNT!"

"BLACK WHORE!"

"THE REALM'S DELIGHT?! MORE LIKE THE WHORE OF THE REALM, SHE WAS!"

"USURPER, WHO BETRAYED THE COMMAND OF HIS OWN FATHER!"

And so it continued, before the booming voice of the king erupted into an angry shout.

"SILENCE!" The king's angry command was followed by a deep silence, many lords falling back into place. Ned looked to the king, who wore a deep frown, but seemed to be somewhat nervous, hiding one of his arms behind his back and pulling the queen closer. The queen then settled one of her hands on his shoulder and spoke next.

"My lords, we understand your concerns and your grievances, but the crown's decision on this matter is final. Continuing, tomorrow we shall have a tourney of singers and a horse race, the day following that the axe throwing contest and the archery contest, then two days for the melee, and five days for the jousting," Some mumbles were heard in the room, most men giving appraising nods," Lord Walter will now speak of the prizes and after that, we shall have a ball."

After that, Lord Walter Whent stepped forward and spoke of the prizes, who were ridiculously high, and presented his maiden daughter, Sharra, who was to be the queen of love and beauty, before eventually stepping back into his seat at a lower level of the high table.

The queen, who was sitting, rose to her feet again and spoke softly.

"My lords, my ladies, my son, the crown prince will open the ball with a song he himself composed."

And with that, the prince moved to a chair near the ball floor, and a servant quickly came in to deliver him his harp. The Harp was made of wood silver in colour, the head of it shaped in the form of a dragon breathing flame. The strings were also silver in colour, and when Rhaegar placed his long, elegant fingers on them, all the heads in the room were turned to him. Even Lyanna, who had been avoiding looking at the High Table during the whole meal, was now staring at the prince, her grey-eyes open wide. _What is she planning this time? _And as soon as the plucking of the strings, turning out into a sad, melancholic song, Ned felt dread and excitement inside of him, and, Gods be cursed, started thinking of love. Ned never had Robert's talent for bedding, talking or just even being with women, being very shy and closed. Somehow, this song gave him the hope that he might one day love, a family of his own, his own wolf pups. His eyes wandered the hall, looking at both women and men who were staring at the prince with hopeful eyes that were open wide. And that was when he saw her.

Dressed in a beautiful and exquisite sleeveless purple gown, he found himself staring at a woman with hauntingly beautiful purple eyes, and with raven hair that was darker than night itself. He suddenly felt his blood run faster, his heart madly beat in his chest, a knot form inside his stomach. _She's absolutely perfect. _The gracious and shapely lady was sitting next to Elia Martell, laughing along with Elia and the Hightower heir, Baelor. Her smile is so perfect. Her laughter is even better than the prince's music, even though Ned could barely hear it. He stared at her for a long while, his grey-eyes glued to her face, until she turned her face to his, and their eyes, purple and grey, locked for moments. Ned felt blood flood his cheeks, and he stared at the grown, finding himself unable to look at her.

Suddenly, Benjen stretched his arm in front of Ned, pointing at Lyanna, and blocking the Maiden herself from Ned's view.

"Look, look, Lya is crying! She's crying because of the song, ahah!" Ben laughed, followed by Bran's roars of glee.

"I-I'm not crying, you stupid! Stop!" Lyanna snapped, while furiously wiping away her tears with a handkerchief.

"You were crying Lya, everybody saw!" Ben mocked her again, falling into his seat beside Brandon, both of them laughing madly.

He was looking at his brother, feeling a smile of his own creep up to his face, before he saw Lyanna behind Benjen, with her cup of Arbor Gold, and she poured it all over Benjen. All the northerners started laughing, pointing fingers at Benjen, who, utterly humiliated, leapt off his chair and ran from the hall.

"You didn't need to do that, Lyanna." Ned said, wanting to laugh himself but understand how Benjen must be feeling.

"He teased me! I wasn't crying!" Lyanna growled, folding her arms. Brandon jumped into the fray, pointing a finger at the gates of the hall.

"And you humiliated him in front of a table full of people. Go after him, and apologize to each other, Lya. You know Benjen was only joking." Bran seemed serious for once, taking a sip from his own goblet after.

"Well... Alright, alright! You win! But he teased me first!" And with that, Lya ran off the hall to find Ben.

And just like that, Ned felt his eyes glue to on woman with the purple eyes, following her around as she danced graciously, laughing and talking with many men, first her own brother, Arthur Dayne, then the Dornish prince, Oberyn Martell, who, to Ned's anger, was to carefree with where and how he put his hands on the woman's body, and finnaly, Jon Connington, who danced with her last.

"Ned. NED. NED." Ned was startled, immediately turning to face his older brother, who was looking at him with a brow raised and a smile on his lips.

"Is it me, or have you been staring at the Lady Ashara all evening, little brother?" Bran said, his smile turning into a mischevious smirk as Ned blushed, proving Bran's theory. Worse of all, Ben and Lya returned that exact moment, acting as if nothing had happened.

"Who has Ned been staring at?! A lady?!" Ben asked in disbelief.

"Oh yes, little brother and little sister, it seems the lady Dayne has captured our dearest Ned's attention.." And with that Bran started howling with laughter, his other siblings following after him.

"So here is the plan. Ned's too shy, we all know that. So.. You two will be holding him down. Give me two minutes." Bran said, as he quickly jumped out of his chair and ran to go get Lady Ashara. Ned wanted to run away from the hall but found both Ben and Lya giggling and holding him down. Ned felt desperate. _Bran, fucking Bran... I'll have my revenge one day! _He thought, just as Bran arrived with the same exact lady.

"Here he is, my lady," Bran said from behind her, a proud smirk on his lips.

Ned was only capable of staring at the floor, feeling the blood running to his cheeks and the lump in his throat. He held his hands on his head, feeling utterly humiliated by his siblings. That was, only he felt a soft touch, the softest he had ever felt on his hand.

"Lord Eddard..?"

He looked at her, amazed that she would even talk with him, "M-My lady?" Looking at his siblings, he could see the worry and anticipation in their eyes, probably worried that she would refuse their request.

"I accept." Ned felt his mouth fall, not believing the words that had just left her mouth. Lyanna joined in, saying "See Ned! Lady Ashara is kind, and that wasn't so hard!" She started to push him off the chair, Benjen joining after her "My lady, despite his shyness, Ned is a very good dancer!" and Bran patted his brother's shoulder, pulling him up rather strongly "And a very good man!" He finished.

Ashara, looked at them with a wide smile, falling into a small giggle as the siblings complemented each other. She extended her hand and took his own. _She's taking my hand._ "Come with me, my Lord." And that was the only thing she needed to say to make Ned trail after her.

* * *

I hope you liked this second chapter, introducing Ned, Ashara, Howland Reed, along with giving some side information! Also, Harlon Greyjoy survives Euron, yay! Thank you and please leave your suggestions and your critiques!


	3. A Peaceful Night

Hello again! Another chapter, and thank you all for all the follows! I hope you like the story, but for now, let's continue! For this chapter, we will have two different Targaryen pov's!

* * *

**Rhaegar Targaryen**

He was bored and desperate. His father had told him he had to find a wife during the tourney and, at the end of the first day, he was already feeling sore. He had spent the first part of the afternoon with Cersei Lannister, and he could proudly confirm that he prefered her back when she was twelve, and he had caught her in her brother's clothes with a sparring sword in hand. She had turned into a beautiful woman, that could not be denied, but the way she lied and was constantly trying to seduce him had tired him. Ideally, he should marry her, he knew, especially since Lord Tywin was the Hand and his father's close friend, and even worse when he had Ser Gerold kill the freakish Clegane lad. He was supposed to knight the man, but he had been raping a small girl, barely older than twelve when they caught him, and in some kind of dumb frenzy, swung his sword at Ser Gerold Hightower. He didn't live very long after that. Then, there was Mina Tyrell, busty and well humoured, she had spent some time in his head, but after spending the latter part of the afternoon with her, she had confessed she was in love with Jon Fossoway, and after that, Rhaegar let her go, but Janna kept walking by, and they were becoming fast friends. It was tiring really, he had met up with women all day and had already danced with thirteen different women this evening, and none but two got his attention, Janna herself and Mariya Darry, but Rhaegar knew his cousin and friend, Stannis Baratheon, was interested in her, so he quickly gave up his hopes with her.

"Your grace? You should drink." Richard Lonmouth said, pushing a tankard filled with ale in front of him.

"No need, Richard, but thank you. I'm not in the mood for a drink right now." He replied, looking at his already drunken friend with a smile.

"You're afraid you might end up choosing the wrong lass if you're drunk, my prince?" Richard said, laughing after gulping whatever he was drinking.

"No, Richard. In fact, I've seen you snatch enough women by now that I believe it doesn't really make a difference anymore." He answered with a laugh.

"Oh? Drunk is it? Rhaegar, it's not the drink. It's a natural charm, my friend. I am the knight of skulls and kisses, and the kissing part had to come from somewhere." His friend replied with a mischevious grin. Rhaegar started laughing, Richard following after him, but someone shouted his name from another table, challenging him to some kind of drinking competition, and Richard all but jumped from the table. He was alone to his thoughts again, as Elbert, Myles and Jon were teasing Stannis about him staring at Mariya Darry for far too long and he could hear Stannis's teeth grinding from here. He deeply pitied his cousin, being cursed to have to endure their comments. His eyes once again drifted through the hall, as he observed all the people around. The Tyrells we're chatting and playing with each other, the Lannister we're silent, minus the twins who were speaking with each other, the Greyjoys were drinking, feasting, with the eldest, Harlon, a good friend to Rhaegar, having his wife from the Shield Islands sitting on his lap, sleeping, although he couldn't be sure with the distance. How Harlon had managed to convince a Shield Islander to give his maiden daughter to an Ironborn, a Greyjoy, at that, was beyond him, although by the way, his hands were stroking her sides they seemed to have a good marriage. Ashara Dayne was still dancing with young Ned Stark, much to the anger of her brother, Arthur, who wanted to kill the middle Stark earlier, and now wanted to kill the oldest because of his ogling of his sister, who was dancing with his own brother! Looking now at the Stark table, he saw Lady Lyanna, the girl he had caught beating three squires earlier. He released a chuckle at the memory. They had spent an awful lot of time talking when he escorted her back to her tent, and he was intrigued to the core. She liked to ride, she claimed she was an extremely good archer, was prouder than the Lannisters and seemed as fierce as the sigil of her house. He decided it then.

He quickly got up and headed for the Stark table, coughing as he stopped in front of it, Lady Lyanna and the youngest Stark looking at him, wide-eyed.

"Lady Lyanna, would you honour me with a dance?" He said respectfully, looking the woman in the eyes. She was beautiful, there was no denying it, but it was her personality, her thoughts and dreams he wanted to hear, just like she had spoken to openly during his escort. Benjen smirked, nudging his sister to stand up, and he was sure he heard her curse under her breath, despite her blushing.

"It would be my pleasure, my prince, although I must inform you I'm not that good of a dancer." She said, coming around the table and in his direction.

"Nonsense, my lady. I am sure you're a better dancer than I am." And with that, he took her hand and lead her to the dancing floor, gently taking her right hand with his left, placing his other hand on her hip, careful to keep it in its proper place. The musicians started to play their music again, and he and Lyanna started to sway each other, an unnerving silence between them. That was until Lyanna accidentally stepped on his foot.

Lyanna looked up at him nervously, spitting out a thousand apologies, but was clearly surprised when he just laughed and nudged her closer to him. _She certainly looks beautiful when she's blushing. _

"Don't fret, my lady. You're not the first and you won't be the last. Now, tell me what's on your mind." He spoke close to her hear, feeling her shivering before straightening herself and following his lead rather perfectly in the dance. _She's a quick learner too, uhm._

"You're a very good musician, your grace. I've never heard one as good as you." She said confidently and with a sweet smile.

"Oh, thank you, lady Stark. You're very good with a club yourself, my lady." He answered jokingly, his purple eyes staring down at her grey ones, enjoying the small frown that appeared in her face.

"I could have beaten them, all three of them. You didn't need to intervene." She said so solemnly that he was sure she believed it herself.

"Oh, I am sure you can, my lady. I even heard you can turn into a wolf at your will. Others say you're a centaur, half horse and half woman." She responded his jape with a smirk, a chuckle escaping her lips. What a beautiful sound it was.

"Well, I heard my prince could breathe fire. Can you breathe fire, my prince?" He found himself with no answer. What would Elbert or Richard say?

And with that, he went to whisper in her hear and he exhaled, and he could see her flush from her chest up to her forehead, "Can I, my lady?". She was at a loss for words, clearly not expecting him doing it, and he immediately regretted it.

"I apologize, my lady, it was rude and improper of me. Please, acc-" She stopped him with a wave of her hand, her face pale and porcelain back to its usual colour.

"I don't mind it, my prince. Now, could you talk of Valyria? I always liked dragons and the islands in the narrow sea."

Rhaegar smiled and quickly started to explain the landmasses and islands of Blackwater Bay, the valyrian families, dragons, dragonlore, the architecture of Dragonstone. Then, Lyanna started to talk of herself, and they continued talking for what felt like hours until the musicians left and they had to. Rhaegar looked at the High Table and saw nobody there, his mother and father having probably already taken Viserys to bed, and he saw that Lyanna didn't have much luck herself at her table.

"Could I escort you to your tent, my lady? Since your family left already." He questioned solemnly, but the truth was that he wanted to spend more time with her. Lyanna smiled and nodded, and he offered her his arm and she took it. They walked silently out of the hall, and then out of Harrenhal and they stopped before her tent.

"Well, here we are my lady. Do you think we could see each other tomorrow? You still need to show me your shapeshifting abilities, my lady." He said jokingly as he took her hand, his thumb rubbing her knuckles unconsciously.

Lyanna simply stood on her toes and gave him a peck on the cheek, nodding her agreement before running into her tent.

That night, Rhaegar dreamt of a dragon chasing a wolf and a crown of blue winter roses.

* * *

**Aerys Targaryen**

"Tywin, I already told you, my son dancing with the Stark girl was not meant as an insult to your daughter." He said with a sigh, looking at his enraged lion of a friend. Tywin was very good at hiding his emotions, but since they had reconciled after Duskendale, he had been much more open with his feelings and he was now snarling at him because of his daughter, Cersei.

"Your son is blind, Aerys. Cersei is the most beautiful lady in the Kingdoms, and your son gives her one dance, one dance!" He said, every inch the angry lion like the one stitched upon his breast.

"Tywin, I already told you, Rhaegar will choose a bride, preferably of a Great House, and both the Starks and the Lannisters are Great Houses, are they not? I can not help you with this." He replied, tapping his fingers against his desk, a simple one that had been set up in his tent.

"Of course you can. You are the only king who is letting his son choose a damned bride, instead of making sure he finds a good, fertile wife for his son. The Stark girl is probably just as barren as the cursed land she comes from." Tywin finally sat on his chair, his hand scratching his side whiskers. His friend was still at a loss because of Joanna, making the rational one in the group, and it would show especially in front of him and Steffon, who was sitting on his chair, reading some letters as he ignored their argument.

"Tywin, do I need to remember you married Joanna for love? Enough of your nagging, the both of you." Steffon bit out sharply, his eyes leaving his letter for them.

"It was also a useful marriage politically, Steffon. House Lannister needed to show off a united front, and uniting both branches was the way to do it." Tywin calmly explained, and both he and Steffon snorted. He and Tywin had made peace over Joanna some time ago, when Tywin accused him of raping his wife and birthing his dwarf, and Aerys almost had him executed, angry and maddened at being accused of raping Joanna, who he admitted, he wanted when he was young, and that Tywin should be content that he at least could have sons, while all of his had died in the cradle or in the womb, besides Rhaegar and Viserys. Tywin retreated to Casterly Rock for the better part of a year, but they eventually came to terms with Steffon's intervention.

"Of course Tywin, fucking Joanna in the Red Keep's gardens was also politically motivated," Steffon said sarcastically, and Tywin turned to him, eyeing him like a lion would eye prey. Aerys laughed inwardly, knowing that if another man that wasn't him or Steffon talked to Tywin in such a way, the man would end up dead in the morning, but Tywin had always tolerated Steffon's dark humour. After some more arguing, the situation finally calmed down, and both Ty and Steff left, and he himself went to his and Rhaella's section of the tent, hoping she was already asleep.

He pushed the curtain open and stepped into the tent, and was soon surprised by Rhaella in a white nightshift, reading in the couch with a candle illuminating her book. He quietly came near her, and clapped his hands together, making a large sound that made Rhaella jump and scream, scared. He started to laugh, his hands holding his belly as he laughed like a madman.

"Aerys! That was not funny!" His sister-wife shouted at him, angrily hitting him with a pillow, Aerys falling beside her in the couch, his laughter slowly dying down.

"You're cruel, Aerys. I was reading!" Rhaella turned to him, closing her book and letting it fall on her lap, a scowl on her face.

"I'm sorry, little sister, I didn't mean to scare you. Not at all." He said, giving her a smile that screamed of mischief.

"Of course you didn't. Apologize for scaring me." Rhaella said, smiling victoriously, as she leaned onto him.

"I'm not, little sister. You forget I am the king." He said, leaning back unto the couch, trying to escape his sister who crawled on top of him, pinning him down.

"And I'm the queen. It is not courteous for a king to scare his queen and not apologize." She said, giving him a cheeky smile, sitting on his legs and forcing his arms down with her hands.

"Alright, I apologize, Rhae. Now let me go." He said, feeling his pants tighten and wanting to run from his sister. They hadn't had sex since he was captured from Duskendale, and he had been too scared to bed his sister, and too afraid to get her pregnant, sure that his rotten seed would kill her, which would destroy him, or another baby, which would destroy him just as much and Rhaella, who he was sure never loved him or would love him, had been much happier, and started to talk much more with him, and even play and comfort him, just like she did when they were children.

Rhaella shook her head, and lowered her head to his face, her hot breath hitting his cheek and he could see that she was blushing, her bright purple eyes darkening.

"Aerys... I want to ask you something." She said, stuttering and nervous.

"What is it, Rhae? And does it have to be done with me in this position?" He said, trying to wiggle free, but she responded by moving closer to his belly, right on top of his crotch, and applying much more weight to his arms. He was confused and wanted to run away, feeling his manhood touch her tighs trough the leather of his breeches.

Rhaella nodded and whispered silently, making him barely able to hear it. "I want you to kiss me." She sounded shy, like a girl of fourteen instead of the woman of thirty-five that she was.

"What? Rhae, have you been drinking?" He asked, his heart starting to beat faster againt's his ribcage.

"No. It's just that. I know you think I still want Bonifer, I know. But... We've gotten along so well, these past years, and I want you to start sleeping with me in the bed again. And I want more children," He had been listening to her, still amazed, but soon his face turned to dread when she spoke of children and he started to protest, but she placed her index on his lips and silenced him, "I know what you're going to say. It's too dangerous, he will die in your womb or be too weak to live, just like Shaena, Daeron, Maekar, Aegon and Jaehaerys, but I want to try now. That. I-I.." Rhaella stuttered and Aerys couldn't believe his ears when she finished, "I think I love you, Aerys. I don't miss Bonifer anymore. I just want to comfort you and I've been wanting to tell you to sleep on my bed for months, now. I'm sorry I'm so foolish, but..." Aerys immediately planted his lips on hers, his hands moving to cup her face, his tongue slithering into her mouth and playing with hers. They stayed like that, kissing, for a good while until both were forced to release each other, gasping for air.

"I love you too, Rhae. I want you. I want you so bad." Aerys teased her, his hands moving to her hips to push the hem of her gown up, revealing her small clothes. Rhaella flushed, but she was a woman of thirty-five, and soon found the courage to move her hands to his breeches and unlace them, releasing his thick and hard manhood out of them. She gasped as it sprung forth, but eventually, her hands curled around it and started stroking it gently, "It's just been a long time since I've seen it." She said, laughing merrily, Aerys following after her as she lifted herself, placed the head of his manhood at the entrance of her folds and lowered herself, moaning loudly when Aerys filled her completely.

"Fu-Fuck. You feel amazing!" He groaned out, holding Rhaella's hips as she rode him, holding him down and using him as she wished. And how he loved it. He started to wildly thrust up into her after a while, losing control and about to peak, but his sister-wife came first, threw her head back, dug her nails into his shoulders and started to whimper in pure relief, and whatever notions Aerys had of planting his seed anywhere but inside her failed when her wet folds tightened around his cock and he released a jet of seed into her.

Rhaella rested her forehead on his and locked her eyes, who were dark and wide open, on his. They stared at each other, at a loss for words, until Aerys eventually decided to take the lead, slipping out of her and laying on the couch, letting his much smaller sister tuck her head in the crook of his neck. That night, Aerys Targaryen, second of his name, slept his first peaceful night in five years.

* * *

Here we are! Thank you for reading again, and leave your suggestions and review, please! Lyanna and Rhaegar properly met each other, and Aerys and Rhaella come to peace with their marriage!


	4. Under The Eye Of The Gods

Hello again! Here is the fourth chapter of this story! For this one, we'll have a Targaryen POV and a Dayne POV!

* * *

** Rhaegar Targaryen, The first day of the melee at Harrenhall**

He was sitting on the sand of a small beach in the God's Eye, thinking of many things. First, of Lyanna Stark, who he had found himself spending more and more time with. The day after the feast, they had spent two hours gallivanting around the tents, simply talking and teasing each other, and the northern girl had asked him if they could meet here and today, again. Then his father and his mother. Only yesterday, he had found his little brother Viserys sleeping on his bed and he couldn't help but laugh at the memory.

_"Vys, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in your tent?" He asked as he slowly lifted his little brother from his bed._

_"I should but I can't Rhaegar! Mother and father keep making awful noises at night!" His brother protested, lifting his arms in the air._

_"Awful noises? What kind of awful noises?" He settled beside his brother, who wrinkled his nose as he started to explain._

_"Mother starts to laugh, then starts mewling like Meraxes when he's happy and then she screams like lady Elinor used to do! Father is silent for most of it but then he starts screaming bad words and then they both shut up! I can't sleep there!" Viserys complained while Rhaegar started to connect the dots. Mewling like Meraxes, Viserys cat who had some supernaturally high mewl, father screaming curses and mother screaming like lady Elinor Velaryon, Monford's Velaryon's wife who was a screamer when it came to marital affairs. AHHHH. He started laughing to the confusion of his brother._

_"Why are you laughing! Can't you see this is serious, big brother? Mother is screaming and father is cursing! What if some kind of demon is hurting them at night?! Uhm?!" Viserys said while hitting him in the shoulder._

_"Little brother, I assure you that what mother and father are doing is not something painful. You can sleep here for a few nights. Now, make some space for me."_

Just the memory made him laugh. He remembered the looks his father threw his mother during the day, how he saw his mother sitting on his father's lap when father was writing some letters. His parents were much closer now, and he was happy for them.

"Why are you laughing?" He looked up and saw the face of Lyanna Stark, who had her hair freely cascading down her shoulders and back, wearing a tunic to big for her and breeches.

"It's nothing, my lady. Now, I've got something for us to do today." He said, getting to his feet while dusting the sand off his legs.

"Oh, and what is it?" She said, placing her hands on her hips.

"We're going riding around the God's Eye, lady Centaur. Didn't you say you were the fastest rider in the North, my lady?" He said as he headed to get Dusk, his dark war horse who had been eating some grass further up.

"Not in the North. In the whole Seven Kingdoms and beyond, your grace, and Winter is the fastest horse to have ever lived!" Lyanna Stark said proudly as she jumped up on her horse, him following up on Dusk.

"I highly doubt that. Dusk is the toughest and the most vicious stallion south of the Land's of Winter."

"Oh? Are you willing to prove that, my prince?" The Stark girl turned her head, smirking.

"You don't believe me? Fine. How?" He asked, patting Dusk's head.

"How about a little race? Three, Two, One!" She shouted merrily as she stormed off, leaving him confused.

"Hey, wait! Fuck." He kicked Dusk's sides who quickly followed after Winter and Lyanna.

They raced for a long while, Dusk eventually catching Winter and surpassing it and he cheered as they stopped.

"Fuck! Where did you get that horse?!" The not so lady Lyanna dismounted her horse and rushed to him, a frown on her face.

"It's a Valyrian Purebred, it's only found in Dragonstone or in the Driftmark these days, they're the fastest horses in the world, the strongest as well," He gestured to his horse, who was coal black in colour, with eyes of a haunting purple colour, "Also, Fuck? Very un-ladylike, Lady Stark."

Lyanna snorted, responding with an "I'm not a lady." By this, the prince was intrigued.

"What do you mean?" He asked as he sat in a fallen tree trunk, Lyanna sitting next to him.

"I don't like and don't feel like a lady. I don't have those dreams that other women have, I just want to stay in Winterfell, ride Winter forever and ever, watch Ned and Bran have kids, be a good aunt to their children. That's it, basically." She sighed, turning to him.

"Oh." Was all that he managed to say. The idea of asking Lord Stark for Lyanna's hand was building up in his head, she would have been a good person to birth the three heads of the dragon, and was certainly a lovable person.

"What do you mean, -Oh-?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Forget it. So, you don't want to marry anybody, my lady?" He asked, maybe he still had a chance.

"That's a tough question. I know I'll have to marry eventually, father says I have to contribute to the North and House Stark. He's still deciding who do I have to marry, although Ned told my father that your Baratheon cousin wants my hand," she wrinkled her nose and scowled, clearly not approving of her perhaps future bridegroom, "Robert, I mean, not the one with you, Stannis or whatever his name is."

"I know, Stannis is already interested in another woman." She turned to him, clearly curious. "You're a gossiper, my lady, I see." He said, amused.

She folded her arms and pouted. "I don't gossip. And I already told you im not a lady, your grace."

"What should I call you then?" He asked as he got to his feet.

"Just call me Lyanna. What should I call you?" Lyanna asked as she got to his feet, brushing away the locks of her hair.

"Just call me Rhaegar. So, are we friends, oh wild she-wolf of the north?" She smirked and nodded.

"Aye, we are, singing dragon of the South." They both laughed and went to their horses, returning to the camp quickly.

They kept talking and laughing, both dismounting their horses as they reached the northern tents, he escorted her to the Stark tent, giving her his arm as he passed amidst the northerners, who nodded and sometimes bowed in their direction.

"Well, here we are, Lyanna. I hope you enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed yours." He took her hand and kissing her knuckles, thinking it would infuriate her. Lyanna smiled widely in response, showing off her bright, white teeth.

"I did, Rhaegar. Also, can I see you again tomorrow? I have something really important to ask you since we're friends, you know."

"Alright. I'll be spending some time with my little brother tomorrow morning, meet me by the royal tents."

She nodded and once again leaned up on her toes, giving him a much fuller and longer kiss on the cheek. "See you tomorrow, dragon prince." She smirked as she looked up at him.

"See you tomorrow, she-wolf of the North."

* * *

**Ashara Dayne**

Ashara was waiting outside the Stark tent for Eddard Stark, or Ned, as he preferred to be called. After they danced at the night of the feast, they planned to meet again, but Ashara had been to busy being a lady-in-waiting to the queen, who was the one taking care of and sponsoring the events before the melee and the tourney. Suddenly, a woman she recognized as Eddard's sister walked out, not even seeing her as she went to her horse, who had its reigns attached to a pole. She turned to a soldier, with plain, grey armour with a small Direwolf carved into the breastplate.

"Garen, did you give Winter her apples?"

"Yes, my lady, I've fed her three apples since you returned with the crown prince." The man straightened his back and stated.

"Alright, you're dismissed Garen, thank you." The woman sighed, leading the horse to make-shift stables near the tent.

Wait, Ned's sister spent time with Rhaegar? Interesting.

"Uh, I'm sorry my lady, I didn't notice you. Do you need anything?" The Stark woman interrupted her thoughts, standing near the entrance of the tent.

"I'm waiting for Lord Eddard, lady... Lyanna, I presume?" She asked, faking uncertainty. Ned explained to her all about his family during the ball.

"Just Lyanna will do," The Stark girl smirked, "So, you're here to see Ned?"

"I am. I did promise him we would meet today." Ashara smiled, looking at Lyanna who got very serious all of a sudden.

"My brother is a kind person, with perhaps the best heart in the world. You would do well not to play with his feelings, my lady." The Stark girl barked, eying her up and down.

"I don't plan to. Ned was very kind and interesting during the ball, I am just returning him the favour." She explained, and after a great moment of silence, Lyanna finally eased up and roared in the direction of the tent.

"NEDD!"

Some curses and grunts were heard from inside the tent, the voice of a young teen the most noticeable one "For fuck's sakes Lya, I'm trying to sleep!" He shouted from inside the tent.

"Fuck you, Benjen, I told you not to go with Brandon to the tavern!" The Stark girl howled, laughing afterwards. Ned suddenly appeared at the entrance of the tent, with his hair all wet and a brown doublet, having dressed clearly in a hurry.

"What is it, Lya?" Eddard stared at his sister, not noticing her.

"Ned, look to your left." Lyanna said amused, both Stark siblings turning to her, Ned with an expression of clear surprise and Lyanna with a smirk that screamed mischief.

"Lady Ashara... Yo-You actually came." He muttered, jaw falling.

"Of course, I did say I'd find some time for you, Eddard, didn't I?" She explained with a smile, moving closer to him.

"Yo-You did..."

"Wait, you didn't believe I'd come? I am extremely disappointed, Eddard Stark, not believing the word of a lady!", she contained a smile while faking being hurt, absolutely enjoying teasing the young man.

"No... I-It's not that, I swear!" He moved closer to her, babbling desperately while trying to explain himself, Lyanna came from behind him, laughing. "She's just teasing you, Ned! Come on, go go, before Bran sees you!" The Stark sister pushed her brother, making him almost trip on top of her.

She offered him her arm, smirking proudly. "Shall we go, Eddard?" He blushed and nodded, taking her arm. Soon, they were walking away from the Northern section and to the God's Eye.

"So, how about you tell me more about your family?" She decided to help him out of his usual silence, knowing he was too shy to ask her anything.

"Uh-Uh. Well, you already met Lya, and you already know about Bran and Benjen. My father rules the North, and everybody rules and respects him. He inherited it from my grandfather, Edwyle Stark. He's kind of harsh but he's a good man." He said, calmer now.

"Uhm. What about your mother?" She asked, curious about why he didn't mention his mother.

"My mother died giving birth to Benjen." He said quietly, and she gasped, immediately regretting it.

"I'm sorry, Eddard, I didn't know." She explained herself, but he chuckled and shook his head.

"It doesn't matter. I like to remember my mother, she was a good woman with the kindest and the second most beautiful smile in the world."

"Second? Who's first? Some girl from the Vale?" She asked, bitterly. For some reason she felt hurt, hearing him say he had a favourite smile.

"It's... It's yours, Ashara." She was stunned, tightening her grip around his arm.

"Mine? Oh my... I've heard many compliments, but you're the first to compliment my smile." She smiled widely, making sure to show off all her teeth.

"I like your nose too." He said, very, very shyly.

"My nose?" She wrinkled her nose, giggling afterwards.

"Ye-Yeah."

"Alright, enough of making me blush, Eddard Stark. Finish what you were saying about your mother."

"Well, she was sweet and was the only person capable of making my father smile properly. He grew harsher and bitter after her death, and he still places flowers on her tomb to this day. She had brown hair like us, but she had sea blue eyes, which she inherited from my grandmother, who was a flint." He explained, making gestures with his hands for some reason.

"Blue eyes..." She moved closer to his face, staring at his eyes, purple on grey. "I prefer yours."

"Thank you." He reddened like a tomato. "She used to call me my Dearest Ned, called Bran her Wild Thing and Lya her Winter Rose."

"Dearest Ned..?" She teased, smirking.

"Ye-Yeah.."

"Can I call you my Dearest Ned?" She asked, blinking through her eyelashes on purpose.

"Uhm..." He looked at her, fidgeting like a bucket of ice had been dropped on him, "I suppose... But you have to let me call you something too." He said, stopping.

"Uhm? What would you call me?" She asked, raising a brow and placing her hands on her hips, making an incredulous face.

"Uhm... Sweetest Ash?" He said with the most awkward smile he could manage. She chuckled seeing his face, moved by how cute and sweet he looked.

"I can deal with that... Dearest Ned." She smiled warmly, something she did rarely but every time she looked at him she wanted to warm him up with her smiles.

"So, tell me about your stay in the Vale!" She asked, and he immediately started to explain everything, and she, for once, listened to everything a man had to say.

...

So... Wait... You're friends with Robert Baratheon?!" She asked, curious as to how someone to serious and sweet as Ned could be friends with the Baratheon heir.

He laughed, "I know, right? We're very different, but still, he's my best friend. I also have others, there's Howland, he's spending his time at the tourney with us, then there's Denys, Willam, Jon. Even Elbert Arryn, although he spends a lot of time in the capital. All men braver and more confident than me." He ended with a sigh.

"Why do feel that way? Not being confident, I mean." She asked, placing a hand in his arm and turning his face in her direction.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be talking about this."

"Oh, come on. I want to hear, and we're friends, right? You can tell me." She said, beaming a smile to give him more confidence.

"Well, I'm a second son, and I don't know what I will really do with my life. Plus, father wants allies in the South, you know, to help the North and help him make it better. He keeps saying we're part of the Seven Kingdoms and that we should stop acting like we aren't. That's why he's waiting to marry Lyanna to a southern Lord and is marrying Brandon to Catelyn Tully next year." He murmured "I'm sure he will try to marry to some southern lady as well."

Ashara felt his change of mood and quickly tried to lift it "Ned, I don't know what your future will be, but I'm sure any woman, southern or northern would love to marry a man like you. Hell, I'd love to marry a man like you." The last words escaped her lips and she blushed immediately and so did he. In her head, she questioned herself what would married life be. She was sure the queen, who she was as a second mother wouldn't mind keeping her forever, but her own father had plans for her to marry someone. Would marriage to a person different from Ned be so bad?

"Yo-You would?" He asked shyly, his hands finding a way to hers.

"I mean that... Whichever woman your father marries you to... She will be very lucky." She said, blushing as if she was still a maiden, which she surely wasn't.

"Would you like to marry me, Ashara?" He said the words confidently, and she blushed like a tomato. This dumb wolf, teasing and tricking her when she was the one supposed to do it, playing with her feelings like this.

"I-I... I guess I would. Yeah." She barked the words, trying hard to hide her feelings. She was swooning over this... dumb.. extremely handsome and kind northern man and her heart was racing in her chest, all the while Eddard Stark, Gods curse him, was placing his hands on her hips and bringing his face closer to hers.

Would kissing Eddard Stark be bad? She, who had kissed and fucked so many men before, actually feeling something for one of them now, would it be good or bad to kiss him? Such an honourable, kind and genuine man as Ned Stark? It wouldn't, right?

"Ashara, come on, dear!" She heard the Queen's voice, and let her eyes wander around, discovering she was near the crownland, and so, royal tents.

Ned sighed and placed a kiss on her hand, muttering "I'm sorry."

"Can I see you again?!" She ignored his apologies and almost jumped at him like an excited puppy, for some reason wanting to spend more time with Eddard Stark.

"O-Of course! During the first day of the tourney?" He asked, straightening his back and looking at her shining grey eyes.

"Alright, I have to go now, I-I will see you in two days!"

And with that, she went to the queen, her heart racing in her chest.

* * *

There! The romance between Ashara and Ned starts, and Lyanna and Rhaegar start to open up to one another!


	5. A Knight Arises

Hello again for another chapter! This one will feature some classic politics, aye aye! Thank you for reading!

* * *

**Aerys Targaryen, The Second Day Of The Melee**

_Oh, great and powerful King,_

_Tyrosh sends it's blessings to you and House Targaryen and wishes fertility and prosperity to the Royal Family and your realm._

_But as you surely know, wise King, a new Pirate King, Wendiros Lohar, has set himself up in the Stepstones and is blocking_

_merchant ships and seeks to dominate the Narrow Sea. You may ask yourself how this is all possible when your gracious father,_

_Jaehaerys Targaryen himself organized an invasion of the Islands and decimated the mercenaries and pirates which haunted them for centuries__, _

_but we are sure that the Lyseni have funded these pirates and have helped them set port in the Grey Gallows._

_Tyrosh kindly offers an alliance with the Iron Throne, so that the Narrow Sea might be cleansed and Lys, the deceitful city,_

_be humbled before Westeros and Tyrosh._

_The Archon of Tyrosh,_

_Kiero Randyllon._

Aerys had to admire the Tyroshi. They were either crazy or stupid, but for them to believe he might ally with them when they were one of the reasons that caused the War of the Ninepenny Kings, with their support of the cursed Blackfyres, they really were in a worse position he might have imagined. Both Myr and Lys were invading their holdings in the Disputed Lands and Tyrosh, for all its arrogance and coin, was falling before the onslaught of the other two sisters. He set the letter aside, decided to think further on it later.

"Your Grace." Ser Gerold Hightower, who had been at the entrance, stopped before his desk and straightened.

"Ser Gerold, I suppose it is time already?" He looked at the Old Knight, who he knew for years now and considered and dear and faithful friend.

"It is your grace. Should I let them in?" The Lord Commander of his Kingsguard asked, to which he responded with a swift nod. Soon, Baelor Hightower and his wife, Elia Martell, entered the tent.

"Your grace."

"Ser Baelor, my lady." He nodded to each of them in turn, "You may sit."

Husband and wife sat in the two chairs in front of him, both smiling and looking confident.

"Well, Ser Baelor, how is old Leyton?" He kindly asked, remembering how he used to play with Ser Gerold's nephew at Summerhall before that blasted and cursed place exploded in flames with his family inside of it.

"My Lord Father is still healthy and able, Your Grace. I thank you for calling us so soon to an audience."

"Nonsense, Ser Baelor. You forget that in a few years we will be family," He managed a smile for both of them, and they answered with one of their own, "Now, I am sure Lord Leyton is paying further attention to your Lady Sister's education?"

"He is, Your Grace. Father always spoiled Lynesse, since she is so young and it would normally have been hard to find her a proper husband, but since you asked her hand for the young prince, my father has been making sure that she attends all her lessons and learn with the best teachers the citadel has. Elia also has been spending some time with her, making sure that she learns on how to be a proper lady." His wife picked up after him.

"It is true, Your Grace. Lynesse is very pretty at nine, at fourteen they will call her the Light of the South, surely." The Dornish beauty finished with a grin, and he responded with a chuckle. He understood her meaning and knew that she assumed he was going to marry his darling boy to Cersei Lannister, but she couldn't be more wrong. Both Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell had already confessed to him that Rhaegar spent some time with Janna Tyrell and Lyanna Stark, mostly the latter, although, he doubted a Stark would do well in the South and was sure his son would move to a lady, as the girl's reputations was already legendary in Slaver's Bay.

"I am sure she will, Lady Elia. Moving on, your sister, Alysanne shall be coming to the capital to serve as one of my wife's ladies-in-waiting, yes?" He asked, turning his eyes to the Heir to the Hightower.

"She will, your grace. That was all." The man finished and he waved his hand, signalling that both he and his wife could leave.

"Farewell, my lord. My lady." The man bowed, while his Dornish wife curtsied elegantly._ Loreza's daughter trough and trough, that one. _"Your Grace".

They left, and soon came in a myriad of lords, each followed by another. Most we're lords asking to marry their daughters to Rhaegar, and he had to kindly dismiss them all. Others were men after positions, some just wanted to see him, for some reason. He met with an awful lot of war veterans, being the only men he was really interested in talking to. Soon, Brynden Tully, finally strode in. He bowed before heading for the chair without even asking.

"Your Grace".

"Ser Brynden. I trust you didn't lose your wits and are still unmarried?" He said with a smile. Ser Brynden responded with a chuckle, instantly growing more relaxed and comfortable on his chair.

"Of course, Your Grace. I am still the Blacksheep, or more appropriately, the Blackfish of the family."

"Tskk. Blackfish? Who even gave you that stupid name?" He asked while laughing, the Blackfish laughing with him.

"My brother, Hoster, during an argument about some Reach girl he wanted me to marry. A Hightower or a Rowan, I don't remember correctly."

"A stupid name, not a funny one too. I have a suggestion, and it's much better than your brothers." He said, smirking as he saw the confusion on the younger Tully's face.

"The Whitefish." He stated again, and the man just seemed to be more confused.

"I'm offering you a place in my Kingsguard, Ser Brynden. Poor Ser Grandison passed away, the Seven keep him, and I must find a replacement. Hell, you're one of the best fighters in the Kingdoms, and you're tough old ox, a war veteran at that. You're the obvious choice." He explained further, and the Blackfish was clearly thinking in his head.

"Oh well. My little Cat is all grown, and so is little Lysa. I accept. In a few years, they'll forget they even called me Blackfish." He said with a chuckle, taking the goblet which had been set before his arrival for him. Aerys followed by taking his own and both men drank from their respective cups.

"Ser Gerold will conduct the ceremony during the opening ceremony of the jousting, be ready for it then."

"I will, Your Grace. Now, I must go make sure that no foolish lad tries to dishonour my nieces before." He stood up, with a smile on his lips.

"Keep the goblet, and good day, Ser Brynden."

"Aye, it was a pleasure, your grace."

He soon followed the Blackfish out of the tent, finding a servant and ordering for a bath to be prepared. He headed into the section where the bathtub was being prepared and started to disrobe, resting his doublet and his breeches in a chair. He touched the water with his fingers and smiled as he felt it's temperature just how he liked, hot as all seven hells combined. Two arms snaked around his neck, pulling him into an embrace from behind.

"Having a bath without me, husband?" He turned, finding himself face to face with Rhaella, his wife and queen. He smiled againt's her toothy grin, placing a chaste kiss on her lips.

"I was waiting for you, wife. You know I would never dare to step in there without you." He pushed some locks of her hair away from her face, that was glowing with the huge smile that reached her eyes.

"So, care to tell me what you did today? You are going out in the sun as I told you to, right?" She asked as she slowly pushed him into the bath, having him settle in the bathtub.

"Yes, I spent the morning with Rhaegar and Viserys, had lunch with the Reachmen, and all the time after it speaking with lords about anything or nothing at all." He sighed. "Also, there seems to be a new Pirate King in the Stepstones, Ser Brynden accepter our offer and will join the Kingsguard. Also, I made making sure that Viserys's girl isn't a spoiled brat." He hummed as she washed his hair using a sponge.

"I wanted to talk to you about Rhaegar." She set the sponge aside and moved to his right, taking his hand, he moved to sit in the bathtub, the water reaching his collar.

"What is there to speak about our boy? Did he do something foolish?" He furrowed his brows, grabbing the sponge and scratching the dry dirt that had glued itself to his ankles and lower legs.

"No, none of that. It's about who he's to marry." She ended with a sigh, taking the sponge from his hand so he would concentrate.

"We have already talked about this, love. Rhaegar has a chance to choose a wife for himself, if he doesn't, I find a bride for him before the year's end." He got out of the tub and grabbed his black towel, moving next to her while he dried himself up, making a mental note to call a servant to come and clean up after Rhaella was finished.

"Yes but who. Our boy doesn't have the same talents you had when you were young." She said in a hushed tone, and he knew immediately what she was talking about. He cupped her chin, made her look up at him "Hey, don't worry. I only have eyes for you and on you." He placed a kiss on her lips, and he withdrew, happy to see the smile that stretched on her face.

"Well, I've decided to marry him to Tywin's girl if he doesn't find one to his liking." He stated and Rhaella stood up, a frown on her lips.

"I don't like the girl. She has nothing of Joanna, nothing at all. She has nothing of Tywin either but is clearly trying to be like her father... And failing, very, very hard." He knew by the look on her face that Rhaella probably had an encounter with the girl and certainly didn't like it.

"What about Janna Tyrell? Does she make you happy?" He caressed the back of her neck, trying to soothe her.

"Uh-Uh. The girl is sweet and intelligent, but she only has eyes for Lord Fossoway, it's as clear as daylight. Plus, you know I don't like the Queen of Thorns." She finished by tightening her lips together, looking up at him in expectation.

"Alright, not the Tyrell girl. That leaves either the Tully girls or the Stark girl." He decided to agree with her, not wanting to fight after his life had taken such a bright turn with her.

"I like the oldest one, a proper lady and clearly able." She turned to the entrance of the tent, leading him by his hand.

"Don't you remember she's promised to Brandon Stark?" He remembered her and she cursed in return.

"Well, this is embarrassing. I think we might have to marry him to Cersei Lannister after all... If... If Shaena just had lived..." She stopped, and he could see that tears were threatening to flood her eyes. He grabbed her by the waist and pushed her to him, lifted her up and led her to their quarters.

"Enough of that. Rhaegar will marry and give us grandchildren and all will be good. Don't belittle yourself for things that are not your fault." He placed a kiss on her forehead and gently sat her on the bed.

"I could give you more babies, you know..." She muttered and he immediately turned, and he saw she was looking expectingly at him, hope written all over her eyes.

"No. I'm not risking you ever again. I know you don't want to drink the moon tea, but it's for your own good, Rhae. I can't risk my seed ruining you again." He explained as he sat next to her, wanting to hit himself as he saw the way the light in her eyes dimmed and she looked at the floor.

"But... I-I want more children, Aerys. Now... That we love each other... We can have those children and they will live, I know it. Three heads of the dragon, brother. Just like the prophecy said. And perhaps more heads, even!" She tried again, and he sighed, annoyed at how she simply couldn't see the risks it would bring to herself.

"How can you still believe in that cursed Wood's Witches word, sister? After what she convinced father to do?" He said harshly, hating the thought that she could believe the words of the person that had ruined their young dreams and hopes.

"Would we be here, together and finally in love, if not for that cursed bitch? Now, I don't want to argue with you. I will take the moon tea..." She pushed him onto the furs and rested her head on his chest.

"Promise?"

"Yes. Now, let's go to sleep. Tomorrow is the big day."

"Goodnight, little sister." He placed a kiss on her temple.

"Goodnight, big brother."

* * *

**Lyanna Stark, in the morning of that day**

"Lyanna," Ben called her, annoyed by the fact she was ignoring and leading Winter out of the stables.

"Lya."

"LYA!" He finally shouted angrily, moving to her.

"WHAT?! CAN'T YOU SEE IM DOING SOMETHING?" She snapped back at him, shouting.

"OF COURSE I CAN SEE THAT. I WANT TO KNOW WHAT ARE YOU DOING." He shouted, grabbing her arm and making her turn to him.

"I'm preparing." She quickly decided to come up with a lie. She wasn't sure if Ben would keep the secret that she was off to see the prince to ask for tourney armour.

He rolled his eyes and released her arm. "Preparing for what, Lyanna?".

"For... The ball at the end of the tourney!" She exclaimed, trying to sound like the southern ladies she had seen when their fathers or brothers found them just after they had been tumbling in the sheets, or in this case, the stables or tents. Ben looked at her shocked, then a vicious smile appeared on his lips which evolved into full-blown laughter.

"Stop laughing! This isn't a joke!" She punched him on the chest, tempted to go grab a tourney sword and beat him into the dirt.

"Of course it is! YOU... Preparing for a ball?!" His laugh started to settle, but he kept a look of extreme amusement.

"Alright! Shut up! Idiot, you're ruining everything" She stomped her foot angrily.

"What am I ruining?" He raised a brow and smiled like he always used to smile when he had the upper hand.

"Fucking... Promise you won't tell Bran or Ned. Especially Ned!" She pointed her finger at him, annoyed at how quickly he had her.

"I promise. Now, what is it?!" He crossed his arms and tapped his foot, waiting for her explanation.

"Im participating in the tourney." She flat out said.

"You can't. You're a girl." She retorted.

"Yes I can."

"No you can't.

"I can... If they don't know I'm a girl." She replied with a grin, looking at his annoyed face.

"And how do you expect them to not know you're a girl?" He was talking to her like she was some kind of dumb wildling.

"Because I'll be going as a mistery knight." She clapped her hands together, and she could see by the face he was making he was thinking hard about it.

"And how will you get the armour? Bran won't give it to you, if father dreams of this he will have his head. And yours, too."

"Because someone is getting it for me. I just need you for a little, tiny bit." She moved closer to her brother, giving him a grin. She was about to tell him until she heard the voice of Howland behind her.

"My lady, you can't! You don't know how to joust! Barristan Selmy, all those trained knights! You will end up hurt, my lady." The crannogmen begged and lowered his head, but she snickered and pulled him up.

"Howland, I'm only going to fuck the knights those shitty little squires serve. To avenge what they did." She squeezed his shoulders and tried to give him a confident look.

"My lady, I beg yo-" He implored once again, worry written all over his face.

"Don't worry, Howland! We will avenge you, the Neck and the North!" She said confidently, looking at both Howland, who looked desperate, and Ben, who was smiling.

"I need you guy's to make me a shield. Something Northern, but not too Northern. Got it?" Ben snickered, looking at Howland in disbelief.

"How are we supposed to make something northern that isn't too northern? Everything's too Northern when it's about the North." He said with a chuckle.

"I have an idea." The lord of the neck said silently.

"Uhm?" The Stark siblings turned to him.

"I've got an idea for the shield." He said louder.

"What is it?"

"Let me do it. It's hard to explain. It's something I saw." He said, with a tone of longing and mystery.

"Welp. I'll leave it to you, then." Ben moved closer to her, "Let's go get you that armour. I'm interested to see who you've befriended enough so that he will give you armour."

"Ben..." She REALLY wasn't interested in Benjen discovering she had been talking to the crown prince. "Yo-You can't come."

"Of course I can."

"You can't... He... Only wants to see me! Very secretive!" She tried to dissuade him.

"You are lying. I'm going to see who this friend of yours is. Now, let's move it." He said sharply, pulling a grey coat over his clothes.

"Alright! But promise you will shut up."

"Of course I will." He said with a smirk.

"You're useless."

"I am. Now lead the way."

They both left the Northern section, and soon they were heading for the section of the crownlands, where at the middle, the huge tents set up for the royal family were. As they were nearing the tents, Benjen grabbed her arm and stopped her, muttering.

"Why are we heading for the royal tents?!" He asked her, eyes open wide.

"I'm having the King execute you for being the most annoying brother in the world." She teased, making him release her arm.

"Lya, this is not a joking matter. You don't plan on stealing armour from the crown, right?" He stopped her again.

"No."

"Lya, whatever your thinking, I really think we should go back."

"Idiot. Just follow me." She said calmly, making him follow her. She could sense his discomfort and couldn't help but grin.

She saw Rhaegar in plain black clothes, something she didn't really expect, playing in a corner between the tents with his little brother, who was happily grabbing a wooden sword and pointing it at a man with a white cloak and grey armour freckled with white, who had one himself. Another Kingsguard moved to them, stopping them.

"Not another step forward. State your business, wolfies." The man crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side with amusement in his eyes, his brown-red hair and blue eyes shining in the sun.

"Oswell, let them pass," Rhaegar called, shifting his attention to Lyanna and Benjen, his brother who had been eying the Kingsguard, which she assumed was Arthur Dayne since he followed the prince almost everywhere, Viserys also turned to them and smiled, tugging at his brother breeches, "They're my friends." Rhaegar finished.

"Friends... Tssk." He cackled and moved, letting them pass." Lyanna was the first to step forward, confidently moving near the two royals, who eyed her both with a smile. Benjen was sweating of nervousness already, apologizing immediately "My prince, I-I swear I had nothing to do with this."

"Lord Benjen, it is nothing to worry about. Come, both of you." They finally stopped in front of him, Lyanna with moved near him with a grin.

"Greetings, your graces." She tried to sound formal, hoping Benjen wouldn't catch onto the friendship she and the prince shared.

"Greetings, my lady. Lord Benjen" He stared at her blankly, nodding at her and at her brother in turn. Young Viserys followed his brother's example, with a red face.

"Uhm... I wanted to ask my prince something if you wouldn't mind."

"Of course, lady Stark. Go ahead." He smiled slightly and she grinned, content that he knew she didn't want Benjen to know.

"I wanted to ask for some armour." She said as graciously as possible and Rhaegar blinked, while the Kingsguard behind her howled with laughter "The she-wolf wants some armour, can you believe it, Dayne!" He kept laughing until the other man bumped his shoulder into his, and he drifted into low chuckles.

"Uhm... I can... Arrange that. Follow me. Viserys, try to see if you can teach Arthur a lesson." The young prince jumped, grinning happily and holding his sword with both hands. "I will! Come, Ser Artie!".

They followed into the tent, which was richly decorated, with various red and blacks, various stands and shelves and some couches. "Please, sit and wait. And...," He headed to a big entrance inside the tent, which a small corridor and many side entrances, he entered the closest in the left, and left soon with an apparent teenager, followed by two servants holding various pieces of armour.

"This is Garth Hightower. Lord Commander Gerold's squire." He presented the boy to them. He had light-brown hair, sharp features and brown eyes.

"My lords. My lady." The squire bowed, he couldn't be more than 12 years old.

"Garth here will give you his armour. It will fit your size, my lord." He spoke in Benjen's direction.

"We thank you and Lord Garth, your Grace." Benjen spoke shyly, the servants moving to deliver the armour to Benjen.

"Well, we won't take any more of your time." She curtsied, trying to hold her laughter at seeing how pale Benjen's face was.

"Of course. Please, escort Lord Benjen out of the tent. I'd like a moment with Lady Lyanna." Rhaegar said, somehow his face melancholic.

Her brother grumbled, probably cursing her for managing to spend more time with Rhaegar, but when Ser Oswell Whent escorted him out, he stared at him wide-eyed and she could hear his voice asking a thousand questions the moment he got out. The Hightower boy quickly retreated, probably to go meet his knight.

Lyanna stared at Rhaegar, wanting to burst out in laughter, and when she saw a smile appear slowly on his lips, she did.

"Did you see my brother's face?" She laughed.

"I did. The poor boy was about to piss himself and whenever Oswell looked at him, I think he did piss himself." The prince chuckled, dropping on the couch.

"Oh my. He was so afraid, he probably thought I'd gone mad." She sat next to him, her amusement clear in her voice.

"Tskk. You shouldn't do this to your brother." He scolded with a smile.

"It's not my fault. He insisted on following me when I told him to stay in the tents with Howland. Plus, I think he might be in love with Ser Oswell and Ser Arthur." She retorted with a chuckle.

"Care to explain what the armour is for?" He asked, his face suddenly melancholic again.

"It's for... Sparring! You know I like to fight." She was still surprised at how at ease she was with the prince and how fast they had become friends.

"Sparring? You don't need armour to spar. It's for the tourney, isn't it?" She felt herself flush when he stated it.

"It's for the tourney." He teased.

"It is." She breathed.

"I admit, I was expecting you to fight in the melee, not to joust." He sensed the tension within her and quickly calmed her.

"Well... Someone has to teach some certain three knights about something." She smiled at him, pleased that he didn't mind as most nobility would have.

"Alright. I have duties to attend to, but I want you to promise me that you won't get hurt." He took her hand, and Lyanna blushed.

"O-Of course. I did tell you I am the best rider in the Seven Kingdoms." She placated him with a smirk, and he released her hand and nodded.

"Well, I hope I don't have to face you. I do plan on winning." He said with a chuckle, standing up.

Lyanna stood up herself, looking up at him. He was much taller than her, and his indigo orbs called her. "Well, if I beat you and win, I will crown you as the queen of love and beauty. You're prettier than most girls." She teased and was happy when she saw some colour run to his cheeks, but he soon shook his head and smiled.

"Well, I already know who I will crown as my queen of love and beauty." He said in a sarcastic tone.

"Who?" She asked, curious as to who the prince of the Seven Kingdoms would choose, and even more curious if that would be herself.

She saw his mouth form into a smirk. "Cersei Lannister." She breathed in, trying hard to hide her discomfort.

"Oh."

"What? You don't think I can crown myself, can I?" He teased again, a wide smile on his lips.

"Well, it's a good choice, it's a good choice." She blurted out, annoyed by his teasing and wanting to strangle him.

"Well, I have to go. My brother is waiting." She muttered silently.

"I should go to. Can I see you tomorrow?" He asked her, pushing his long hair above his hear.

"No. You have that girl you like so much to see too?" She spat out, bitterly.

"A girl? Which girl?" He seemed surprised.

"Cersei Lannister." She said her name like a curse, intending to hurt him. He smirked and Lyanna turned around, left the tent and felt the need to strangle something to death. Maybe her brother. Maybe the prince. No... What she wanted was to strangle Cersei Lannister.

* * *

There! Next chapter we will have the first day of the tourney!


	6. The Tourney Starts With News Of Summer

Wassup people! The sixth chapter, the jousting starts with a Stark POV and a Lannister POV.

* * *

**Eddard Stark, The First Day Of The Jousting**

"My Lords and Ladies!" A voice boomed from the podium, next to the huge platform of the royal family, where the King sat on a plain chair beside the queen, who was murmuring something in the Crown Prince's ear, who sat next to her. A thousand heads turned to Lord Walter who turned to the Royal family, bowed, then turned again to the tourney grounds and spoke.

"My lords and ladies! Hear Hear! We will have three days of jousting where any man blessed with the seven oils might participate and the last two will be the finals of the tourney." He gestured to the Royal stand, where his maiden daughter, Sharra Whent, who had on her head a crown of blue winter roses, Ned looked at Lyanna, knowing how much she loved the Blue Roses that his family had in the glass gardens of Winterfell. "My daughter will have her title of Queen of love and beauty defended by my three sons and by my honourable brother, Ser Oswell Whent of the Kingsguard." Claps followed, and Ser Oswell Whent bowed to the crowd from his position behind the prince.

"Now, those men willing to joust today prepare themselves to head to the grounds, but first, the King would like to speak."

The King rose to his feet and moved to the railing of his stand, grabbing the railing with one hand while raising the other for silence, a command that was quickly followed. Lyanna murmured in his ear, "What do you think they'll be announcing?" She asked.

"I don't know. But I think it might be about the prizes or something." He answered and Lyanna moved away and Ned rested his arm in the empty seat beside him that he'd kept for Ashara, although now he could see she was in the seats behind the royal family as one of the Queen's ladies-in-waiting. He looked there and caught her eye. She gave him a smile and a nod and Ned felt himself go red. _Maybe she will come to see me after all._ The King started his speech.

"Lords of the Realm. Many of you here known me since I was a boy and many of you fought with me in the name of my father, Jaehaerys Targaryen, when Maelys the Monstrous seized the Stepstones and threatened the realm." Murmurs of "Aye's" were heard around the crowd. "When Lord Ormund Baratheon, Hand of the King, led our forces againt's the Band of the Nine and died bravely in battle." He gestured to the platform of the Stormlords, where Lord Steffon Baratheon, his wife and two youngest sons, since Robert was sitting behind him. Lord Steffon rose briefly and nodded. "And then when Ser Gerold Hightower, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard took command and under him, the enemy was broken, and bold Ser Barristan slew the last Blackfyre." The Kingsguard left the platform in a line, coming to stand in a line of grey and white before the King, Ser Gerold Hightower, tall and broad-shouldered stepping forward and bowing.

"But Ser Barristan and Ser Gerold were not the only Kingsguards who fought well and truly in the war. Ser Harlan Grandison, who helped save my pregnant wife alongside Duncan the Tall during the disaster at Summerhall," Murmurs started in the crowd, and soon Ned knew what was coming. The King was choosing a new Kingsguard. Lord Grandison, who was near Lord Steffon, rose and bowed at the mention of his knightly kinsman.

"And fought bravely all of his life, has sadly passed away. The Gods decided to take him in his sleep, for if he was awake, surely there would have been a fight, for Ser Harlan was never a man to walk away from his duty." Some chuckles ran along the crowd, but most were either solemn and focused on the king, while others were making bets about who this new Kingsguard would be.

"Seven swords must guard the crown. And a place in the Kingsguard is vacant. No longer it shall be." Ned was eying the King before something in the Lannister stands caught his attention. Young Jaime Lannister, who was already famous for his fighting againt's the Kingswood Brotherhood, was armoured and was being pushed to his feet by a woman who looked awfully like him. Ned squinted and saw that she was Cersei Lannister, who had been following the prince like a cat follows a rat. _Probably is to be our next queen, that one._ Although Ned didn't understand how such a young Knight as Ser Jaime would become a Kingsguard, by the way, he seemed prepared to head to the grounds. Wasn't he the heir to Casterly Rock?

"Ser Brynden Tully." The King called out, and Ser Brynden rose amidst cheers, flashing a smile at the crowds. Ned could see that the Lannister twins were confused, but Ser Jaime fell back into his seat with a frown, while Lady Cersei seemed angry. Ser Brynden came to stand next to Ser Gerold and knelt to the King. His Grace descended from his platform then, coming before Ser Brynden, groomed and in black and red.

"Ser Brynden of House Tully." The King unsheathed his sword and gasps erupted all over the crowd. And Ned immediately knew why. Blackfyre. The bastard sword of the King shone in the sun, with Black Valyrian steel with red ripples, with a hilt decorated with two dragons and a red ruby at the tip. A sword of legend, the sword of Aegon the Conqueror. Ned didn't understand, the sword was supposed to have been stolen by Bittersteel and had disappeared. But yet here she stood, in the King's hand. All the gasps proved that Ned wasn't the only one who thought such.

The King rested the blade of Ser Brynden's right shoulder.

"Do you swear to defend the King and the royal family from all harm? Do you swear to obey all the King's commands, to keep his secrets and counsel him when requested and to keep silent when not? To defend his name and his honour? Do you swear to all of this, under the sigh of the Old Gods and the New?" The King finished, Ned being surprised how the King, who despite not being small wasn't that imposing either, had such a deep voice.

"I swear." Ser Brynden breathed out.

"Then rise, rise as a knight of the Kingsguard." Ser Gerold moved and placed a white cloak on Brynden's shoulder, then the man rose, moving to take his place before his new brothers.

The King turned to the crowd.

"May the games... Begin!"

...

"Look! It's Ser Jonothor Darry againt's Ser Oswell Whent! Two Kingsguard! Finally a good joust!" Lyanna all but shouted beside him, followed by Benjen's clear interest. Brandon had been sitting with Catelyn Tully but had already left to go joust. Catelyn had stayed with them tough, and her loud cheers for her now Kingsguard uncle still ringed in his ear. Robert was behind him and had been entertaining them, but he knew his mood was dimmed because of his loss in the melee againt's Harlon Greyjoy, who ended up making him trip in the final fight. Benjen was practically jumping out of his seat, excited at seeing the best knights in the realm. Ned although, was annoyed at the screams of his brothers and friends and having Ashara so close but so far away. He still didn't know what demon had taken him during their encounter, when he had ended up asking Ashara to marry him after just one date. That was surely why she was staying with the queen, talking with the royal family and having fun.

"Look! That was an expert hit!" Benjen pointed his finger in front of his face to Ser Jonothor Darry, who had fallen to the floor and was being helped up by his victorious comrade.

"Gods, aren't they the best? What would I give to be one of them." Benjen murmured.

"Oi, Benjen, what you need is to fight and drink. That's what real men do, not hit each other with lances." Robert laughed behind him.

"Well, how do you know that? You never won a joust, Robert. Not a single one. Hells, you must be a great jouster, seeing that even your family don't want you!" Benjen accused with a chuckle, while Robert laughed in response.

"That's only because my father wants me to stay shut, my mother wants to mother me and Stannis is dour and stubborn, always saying You can't do that Robert. Remember your duty, Robert. Father is not going to be happy, Robert. Thank the gods I escaped here." He grounded out, and Lyanna turned to him, scowling.

"You shouldn't speak that way about your family. They're your family. Sure, family can be useless sometimes, but still, you're being cruel them by talking such of them in their backs. A wolf never abandons his pack." She said bitterly. Ned knew that Lya wanted Robert well away from her and her family.

"Well, that's only because you have an actually working family, not mine." Robert defended.

"Well, shut up then and let us see the joust." Lya attacked and turned away from him, Ned leaned in her ear. "Why are you so mean to him?"

Lyanna murmured. "Because he's a drunken, arrogant fool. I don't understand how you and he are friends, Ned."

"Neither do I, but still, he's my friend, Lya. Can you try to be nicer? You know he just wants you to like him."

"I know he wanted to marry me. Thank the god's father refused." She spat out.

"Lya. He just wanted to love you and for you to love him back." Ned defended his friend, even if he knew in his heart that Robert would never truly love and appreciate Lyanna for what she was.

"No Ned. He loves you, and he wanted to be closer to you through me. Plus, I know that he already has bastards in the Vale and in the Stormlands. He would never love me. Perhaps he could have, in some twisted way. But still, love is sweet, dearest Ned, but it cannot change a man's nature." Lyanna finished and turned her attention to the Royal Stands and immediately wrinkled her nose in disgust and her face turned pale.

Ned looked at the royal family and saw that they weren't alone. The Hand and his family were visiting, and while King Aerys and Lord Tywin conversed, the queen and the two princes talked with both Lady Cersei and Ser Jaime Lannister. Ser Jaime seemed to be talking with the queen and the little prince, who was in her lap, while Lady Cersei was devoting all her attention to Prince Rhaegar, a hand placed in his arm. Lyanna was fuming beside him, making Ned confused at her mood. Why was she angry?

"Lya, what's wrong?" He whispered the question in her ear.

Lyanna seemed to break out of her bloodlust trance, blinking many times and resting her hand in her legs.

"Nothing. I-It's nothing." It certainly was something.

"What is it, little sister? Come on, you can tell me." He tugged at her arm and asked again. Lyanna looked at him with a frown.

"It's nothing, Ned. I already told you." She replied.

"Tell me." He insisted again.

"Alright. You're so annoying. I'll tell you. It's the... The... Prince." She said quietly.

"The Prince? What about the Prince?" He raised a brow and asked. What in the Old Gods had Lyanna been doing?

"I just don't like the Lannister girl. With her perfect blonde hair and those cat-like green eyes. I'm sorry but I just don't like her. Did you see how she dragged Prince Rhaegar to the dancing floor and how she grabbed him? Like he's hers." Lyanna smacked her lips together and tightened her fist.

"Well, maybe he is. Lord Tywin and the King are friends, everybody knows that. And Lady Cersei is beautiful, nobody can deny that. They would be a very royal couple. I don't see why you're so angry and so distrustful of the woman." Ned looked down at her tightened fists. _Why is she reacting like this? _

"Still, I don't trust her. Enough of me, though. How are you and that Dayne girl of yours? Do you know she's Rhae- I mean, a cousin of the royal family?" Lyanna asked him, reflecting the interrogation unto him. Lyanna always had a talent for sensing weakness in the pack, in her brothers.

"I didn't. And well, she's with the queen. And we have nothing..." He muttered quietly, not wanting to remember how foolish he had been to ask her to marry him after their first proper meeting and how stupid he had been to believe she wanted to spend some time with him.

"You must have something. She manages to make the Quiet Wolf howl or mute. Not everyone can do that." She said with a chuckle, leaning onto him and resting her arm on his shoulder.

"I told you, we have nothing. She's just a dancing partner." He and his sister turned quiet after that, looking at the various common jousts of the first day. He looked at the royal stands and found the queen and Ashara staring at him, Ashara eyes wide open with glee, while the Queen was squinting at him. Rhaella Targaryen whispered something in her lady-in-waiting's ear, and suddenly, Ashara started pointing to his sister and waved them over.

"Ned, is she waving us or you over?" Lyanna asked. Ned was about to respond before Catelyn intervened.

"Who is waving you over, my lady?" Catelyn had been sitting near them and had spent time with Brandon before he had headed for his first jousts. Ned didn't understand why Bran would dedicate himself to jousting since it wasn't a northern tradition.

"The Queen and Ashara Dayne, Lady Catelyn. We should go Ned." For some reason, Lyanna was glowing with excitement and Ned soon followed her out of the stands, going around the grounds to the Royal Family's stand.

They were silent as they moved at least until they met Bran along the way.

"Hey, Lya, Ned, what are you doing here?" Bran asked while placing a grey coat on, wiping the sweat off his head.

"We've been invited to go somewhere. And you, you wildling, shouldn't you be jousting with the southerners?" Lyanna spoke before him, with a grin to her older brother. Ned knew very well that Lyanna and Brandon were likes two sides of the same coin, the Wolfsblood of their family running thick and deep through them.

"Well, little sister, these southerners seem to be scared and just told me that my jousts will be tomorrow. Can you believe it? I had Ethan and Kyle running around for hours carrying armour and lances for nothing." He scoffed, kicking the dirt.

"Still, Bran, do you think you can defeat the southron knights? They have experience and you don't." Lya teased, keeping her grin.

"Bah. They might know those fancy moves of theirs, but jousting his about how well you ride, not about how fancy movements. And everyone knows im the best rider in the Seven Kingdoms." Bran teased back with a grin, folding his arms while looking down at his little sister.

"The best? Brandon Stark, a dreamer to the core. Do I need to remind you that our score is 37 to 32? I'm winning. That makes me the best rider in the Seven Kingdoms."

"Tssk, you're just winning because I let you. I wouldn't want you to cry like you did when the prince played his silver harp." Brandon gave her the widest smirk he could, while Lyanna quickly moved to punch him while shouting and cursing.

"Lyanna, didn't you say you had to go somewhere? Stop it." He chuckled as he pushed her arms away from him.

"You're lucky, Bran! But I'll have you tonight!" Lyanna laughed as well, fixing her dress while mumbling something.

"Take care of her, Little Ned." Bran pats his shoulder and he answered with a nod.

...

Both be and Lyanna continued their walk, finally reaching the back of the royal stand. A Kingsguard was guarding the stairs.

"Halt. State your business with the royal family." A man with a gruff voice asked, placing a hand on the pommel of his sword.

Ned was about to answer when a woman with silver hair and dark indigo eyes walked slowly down the stairs with a smile on her face, with an intricate gown of black and red, followed by Ashara.

"Steady, Ser Jonothor. I invited Lord Eddard and Lady Lyanna over." The queen graced them both with a smile and quickly turned back up the stairs and Ned looked at Ashara, who gave him a smile before turning around as well.

Lyanna gave him a look, before shrugging and following the queen, Ned just behind her.

When Ned finally got up the stand, he was taken aback by the luxury and care. Various Targaryen banners, the front chairs of the royalty, back chairs for advisors and other family members, couches, pillows, even a corner where Ned looked into and saw the young prince Viserys playing with a boy with a head too big for his body, with small limbs and a jutted forehead, wearing red and gold, the colours of Casterly Rock.

"Ned..." Lyanna whispered in his ear "Lord Tywin's bane. His dwarf son." Lyanna pointed and Ned was about to whisper how rude it was to talk badly of the Lannister boy right beside the Royal Family and the King who was a dear friend of Tywin Lannister, but someone answered for him.

"His name is Tyrion, thank you." Lyanna gasped and turned in the direction of the voice, who revealed a handsome young man with golden skin and blonde hair, with a muscular and athletic build.

"I was just curious." Lyanna pouted.

"Yes, calling a small boy his fathers bane display curiosity in an excellent way, my lady." The Lannister man was frowning, leaning back on a rail.

"Well, that's what everyone calls him. I wasn't trying to be mean, I just didn't know his name." Lyanna defended.

"Yes yes. I hope you don't make the same mistake twice." The man threatened and Ned immediately stepped forward, but Lyanna grabbed his arm and lead him where they were actually supposed to go, to the royal family.

"What your name, anyway?" Lyanna faked ignorance and asked the man.

"Ser Jaime Lannister." The flashed a grin and Lyanna frowned. "And who are you two?"

"Eddard and Lyanna Stark." Ned answered, still eying the man with suspicion.

"Well, we'll go do what we came here to do." Lyanna and he started walking towards the royal stands.

"And that certainly wasn't doing gossip about a child." The Lannister said from behind them. Lyanna turned but when she turned around, he wasn't there anymore.

* * *

**Cersei Lannister**

She had been with the prince all this time, using all her charms on the handsome man. He gave her many dances and they spent a lot of time together, but Cersei didn't feel ready for the next step. At least, not yet. She was sure, though, that she would marry Rhaegar and become queen. Her father had promised and everybody knew that father had once truly ruled the realm and still had the King's ear. But still, lesser families, like those cursed Tyrell's and the Starks and Tully's. Elia Martell had already married Hightower, and so wasn't a threat anymore. She was going to be queen, she was sure of it. But there was the Stark girl. Her spies had told her that she and the prince had spent a lot of time together, including riding and she had spent some time with him in the royal tent. Did the prince fuck her? No, that could not be possible. The prince surely wasn't a man like that.

"Cersei, my dear, let me present to you Lyanna and Eddard Stark." The Silky and gentle voice of the queen broke her thoughts, and soon Cersei found herself looking at the Stark pups. The Stark boy had long brown hair and dark grey eyes. She had heard that he had danced with Ashara Dayne, a beautiful woman yes, but for all her beauty, she wouldn't be able to reach Cersei's feet. Eddard for her was simple, nothing compared to her brother Jaime. The Stark girl, otherwise, had a long face, grey eyes and brown hair, a truly boyish thing. How this girl had managed to even befriend the prince, was something she couldn't comprehend.

They all exchanged courtesies and Jaime came to sit near her, and the conversation that followed bored her. Courtesies, gossip, compliments. That was all they spoke for a time, Cersei participating from time to time, but most of the time Cersei's attention was focused on the queen. The queen was beautiful, perhaps as beautiful as herself, and those dark indigo eyes were both haunting and alluring at the same time. The other thing about her was the relationship she and her brother, the king had. They loved each other deeply, that was for sure certain. Seeing a brother and sister love each other so much, made her think about Jaime and what they could have. Cersei would marry Rhaegar, her perfect prince, and Jaime would stay with her, her guardian, and she would love them both. Although, the King somehow ruined this plan. She had tried to suggest and persuade the King to put Jaime in the Kingsguard, but he strongly refused and shooed her away from his solar back in King's Landing. Thankfully, he hadn't informed her father or Cersei would have been for sure punished.

Still, her father had informed her that the King had let the prince chose a woman for himself, the future queen of Westeros. Cersei was sure she would be, she was the most beautiful woman in the realm and she had been the one spending the most time with Rhaegar... And, she was also the daughter of the Hand of the King, who she knew had the King's ear and they were friends, good friends. Her father had been the one truly ruling the realm for a long time, that was until since Duskendale, where the Queen, who her father had said that despite them being siblings and good friends, there had never been, had gained an enormous influence, and her husband had allowed her and Prince Rhaegar to be given a place in the small council. Quickly, things changed, and they changed fast. Half of the small council was dismissed, the crown started to actively support Quellon's Greyjoy's reforms in the Iron Islands. Her father had been angry, she knew it, for he controlled many of the small council members at the time, but when King Aerys finally started to rule properly again, her father hoped that he would simply trot back into his old power, the King was even harsher than his wife. He attended all council meetings, made all important decisions, and to the surprise of her father, had taken lessons of ruling with his own hand, and many others. He had ordered half of the court to go back home, or wherever they came from, and like King Maekar, severely started to break down on any kind of plotting. He had even brought some a foreigner, a eunuch on top of that, to become the new master of whisperers. Her father had only made a mess further, when he had retreated home after a quarrel with his grace, only to return barely a year later.

Suddenly, a man came in, wearing a suit of gleaming black armour, with a red Dragon painted upon his breast perfectly, the men quickly fell to a knee and lowered his head. Cersei noticed that his helm was crested with a row of scales shaped in the armour, that seemed to continue backwards. Everybody around her, Jaime, the Starks and all the others, noticed the man and were visibly curious? _Who is this? What's with the armour?._

"Rise, Ser Torwyn." The queen waved her hand, smiling, the man rose, he was big, muscular and broad-shouldered, with a hardened, ugly face.

"My queen, I've come ridin' from Summerhall, on command from the Lord Captain Jaremy Rykker. Will his grace arrive soon?" The man, who had been staring at the ground, looked at the queen, in clear reverence, the queen shook her head with a gentle smile in her face.

"Unfortunately, my husband had to take his leave due to matters of the realm. Although, I will inform him of your report." The man looked around all of them, his careful look passing briefly by Cersei, until he looked back at the queen. The queen continued smiling and waved her hand. The man once again knelt, and spoke again in an accent Cersei finnaly recognized with being from the Iron Islands.

"My queen, Ser Rykker bids me report that construction of Summerhall has ended. Lorys informed us that his import of Ironwood from House Forrester will arrive in two weeks, and that when his grace returns to King's Landing, a fortnight from then construction will have ended in the North Quarter. Summerhall will be rebuilt, your grace."


	7. The Knight Of The Laughing Tree

Hello! Back again, for a new chapter! The knight of the laughing tree appears!

Guest: Well, I am not British, and I feel that if I tried to write in the posh or royal style I would fail completely, that is why I decided to go for modern speaking! Apologies!

therealrane: Thank you!

Boramir: Thank you again, I am sorry for my tardiness, and well, maybe Sandor will be different in this version, uhm? :)

* * *

**Lyanna Stark**

The events of yesterday flooded her mind as she watered her face. She had spent a long time with the queen and her ladies, and her majesty was a delight. She seemed like a truly kind woman and she was picture-perfect. The book she had read before coming south for the tourney, which had been written with biographies of the royal family soon after the birth of Prince Viserys, seemed to have been true when describing the "Good" Queen Rhaella. With silver hair that reached her waist, eyes of deep indigo, almost black in colour. _Rhaegar inherited those eyes. _Queen Rhaella was something out of the stories of the conquest, surely. King Aerys, who she saw later that day when he came by with Rhaegar, finding the man in a black doublet, he had eyes of violet colour and hair that went by his shoulder, with a face tired and aged beyond his usual years. _The price of Kingship, I suppose. _Surprisingly, he very closely resembled Lord Steffon Baratheon, and she supposed that if Lord Steffon's eyes and hair were of Valyrian colouring, he would be a younger copy of the King.

Later that day, after Ned had escaped her with that woman of his, Ashara Dayne, she discovered that the Starks and Targaryens were actually related, trough the female line of both houses, with Betha Blackwood, wife and queen of Aegon the fifth having a sister called Melantha Blackwood who married her great-grandfather, Lord Willam Stark. The Queen invited them over to the newly rebuilt Summer palace of the Targaryens, Summerhall, which had served to infuriate the cursed woman, Cersei Lannister.

Cersei of the House Lannister was probably the most despicable person she had ever met, beautiful in the exterior with her golden hair and bright green eyes, but everyone could see the rotten snake she was underneath, the way she moved, talked, even breathed. How she badly faked interest in the conversation, how she looked at her and Ned as if the lion had any right to judge the direwolf. Most importantly, how she kept stalking Rhaegar around, looking at him as if he was some kind of prize like a lion hunted its prey. It sents shivers down her spine. _Rhaegar deserves a woman much better than her._

As she headed to slip into her tunic, she inhaled deeply, knowing that this was the day she would avenge Howland, the Neck and the North. Today, she'd enter the jousts as a mystery knight, and beat the knights those boys were squiring under. Ser Aenys Frey, Ser Leslyn Haigh and Ser Morros Blount. Benjen, who had always been interested in southern knights and tourneys, had been studying the three men. She headed out of her tent, finding Benjen waiting for her near the stables, holding Storm, his horse, by the reigns. It was still late in the night, as they knew they had to head out before Bran woke up and stopped them.

"Took you long enough. I swear if Bran or Ned wake up..." He jumped on his horse, sighing in annoyance as she took slow steps to Winter, mocking him with a sly smile.

"What? Are you going to cry to Bran and tell them how it was all my fault?" She jumped on winter, smirking at Benjen who smiled back.

"Bah, you know I don't cry." They started to ride off the grounds, heading to the forest.

"Sure you do. I've seen you cry more than once, little puppy." She said with a laugh, as they got deeper and deeper into the forest.

Soon, a clearing came into view and Benjen told her that they had arrived. She slipped down, placed Winter and Storm near a small pool and pat her side. _They won't leave without us, loyal beasts. _She turned and found Ben holding a shield, with a weirwood with a red trunk and red leaves, with a huge, mocking red smile on it.

"Look at it, Howland spent all day working on it." Ben smiled, handing it to her. She tested the weight on her arm and shrugged. _It's a perfect weight._

"Howland got it right. It's perfect. Now, did you paint the Hightower boys armour?" She released the shield on the ground, watching as Benjen collected many pieces of armour. Some were green, others were half-painted, to make them look older. Benjen had surely gone out of his way to make sure nobody could recognize the armour.

"Of course. Green, Red, Yellow, Grey, Black. They will think you a thief who stole from knights and entered the jousts." He chuckled.

"Now come here, let me strap these onto you." He started to place the armour on her like she was a knight and him her page, and the thought made Lyanna chuckle loudly.

"Why are you laughing?" He said as he tightened the breastplate around her.

"I didn't know a squire could question his knight."

"Oh, you..." He grumbled while she only laughed louder.

"Ah, this is definitely good. When I win the tourney, I shall give you, my squire, many honours." She said with a chuckle, and even Benjen cracked after that one.

"Right right, Ser Knight, remember. Challenge Haigh first, he's weak and a shit rider. Then, Blount, he's big and large, but he doesn't know how to properly joust. Use whatever experience you gain with Haigh to beat him. Frey is the last, the weasel never won a tourney, but he's been in a lot of them. He is the better of the three."

Lyanna nodded, taking it all in. She headed back to Harrenhal, and soon she and Benjen separated. She would have to face the rest of the journey alone. She walked into the grounds, where the many jousters were preparing, and she found the main table, where jousters were signing up. She forced Winter to march forward and stopped before the table. A man who was in full armour, humming to himself didn't look at her, but another man, writing onto a paper, with an ugly large nose and a crooked, vile smile looked up at her, grinning.

"Here, here Ser. Look at this one. A beggar knight?" He said sarcastically, and the knight turned and looked her up and down.

"Nay, Ed, this one is a mystery knight, ay'. Let him sign in, they always spice things up." He said bored, turning again. The weasel looking man spoke again.

"What's yer name, mystery boy?"

She responded by hardening her voice, trying to imitate her older brother, Brandon. _A name? What kind of fucking name am I supposed to choose? _

"Walder."

"You want me to fuckin' sign you in with the name Walder, is that it?" He was red, almost laughing.

"Uhh... No!"

"Then choose a better name. A knight name, with mystery in it. Like that smiley one in the Kingswood." He waved his hand and tapped his feather pen into the paper.

"Well... Ain't it a bit spontaneous for that?"

"Oh for fuck's sakes." He looked at her shield, blinked, and wrote something into the paper.

She stood there, waiting for the man to say something. He cursed as if she wasn't there.

"Well, what the fuck are you waiting for? Fuck off, there are more people waiting, hey?"

She cursed, willing to strangle the man, but rode away, ignorant to her own jousting name. She sighed, deciding she would have to make do, and went to found Haigh, the one with a fork on his breastplate, and she found him quickly and challenged him to the first joust of the day.

"Look at this poor beggar, challenging me to a fucking joust? Well, bring it on then!"

A few moments later, Lyanna found herself waiting at the entrance of the jousting fields, breathing heavily and nervous._ It was about to start._

"Ser Leslyn Haigh, take your place on the field!" The herald bellowed! The Haigh knight rode in, stopped and bowed to the royal family before taking the opposite side of the jousting barricade.

"And now, we have a knight with no name, for he comes from the Isle of Faces itself, an envoy of the green men who live there! Please, let us welcome the Knight of the Laughing tree!" The man shouted, and soon claps and curious cheers erupted from the stands and from the places where the small-folk were watching the joust.

She rode in, confused at first. She finally decides to take a ride around are the fields, waving her hands to the crowd. _Fuck me, if this isn't great. _She thought so as the crowds cheered loudly for her. She finally headed to the front of the royal stand, where she tightened her right hand to her fist and place it at her heart with a bow. The King waved her, with a curious, assessing look, the Queen looked amused, while Rhaegar was hiding his face from his parents with the palm of his hand, he looked worried. _Is he worried for me?_ He gave her a smile, not a very confident one, but at least, with how melancholic he usually was, it was something. Lyanna felt that she had to win now. _Let's see if I can put another smile on his face._

* * *

**Rhaegar Targaryen**

This is a very, very bad idea. As the herald calls for Lyanna, it dawned on him how he should really never have agreed to this idea. She was too clearly too small for proper jousting, her armour would tire her quickly and her lance would be too heavy to lift, second, she didn't know how to joust or even fight and third, she could get hurt and it worried him deeply. He should have denier her, when she came, but seeing her so excited to do something had made her more convincing than ever. _How am I letting this girl do whatever she wants of me? _Also, she had got angry with his teasing when he mentioned Cersei Lannister, and it had confused him even more. Was she jealous?

His thoughts were broken when Lyanna trotted her horse before his family, bowed and turned her helmet to look at him. _At least the helmet hides her face properly, nobody will notice she's a girl. _Well, he couldn't possibly stop her now, so he decided to encourage her so that she would feel more confident if he could even make her feel that. He smiled, a forced one, but at least he smiled. She rode away and took her position ready to ride. The bell sounded and both knights rode. He gripped his chair and held his breath, closing his eyes. After a few seconds, the crowd erupted in cheers and he opened his eyes, to watch Lyanna victoriously ride around the fields. The defeated fork knight came to offer his armour and horse as ramson, but Lyanna shook her head and stopped the man.

"I only ask that you teach your squire honour!" She shouted and once again, the crowd erupted into cheers. Chants of the Knight of the Laughing Tree started, and Rhaegar thought that maybe this day wouldn't go that bad.

"Ser Gerold." He heard the voice of his father call from the side.

"Yes, your grace?" The White Bull came asked. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and the King where like Ser Duncan and King Aegon the fifth, his great grandfather. It was known that it was his mother, but also the Lord Commander, who helped his father recover after Duskendale.

"Who is this knight? I haven't heard anything about him. He seems to have some technique, doesn't he?" His father asked, turning his face to Ser Gerold.

"In truth, I know not, your grace. I believe this is the first tourney I have ever heard of such a knight participating in." Ser Gerold explained as another joust started.

"Ser Barristan." His father called next.

"Your grace." The Bold stepped up next to the Bull.

"Tell me, when my uncle Duncan crowned you the Bold, how old were you? I have forgotten, I apologize." The way his father had tempered and humbled after Duskendale still astonished him. The once vain, arrogant and jealous King had humbled and placed walls around himself, that only his mother could properly break.

"I was but only ten, your grace." The man bowed slightly.

"And were you smaller or bigger than this Knight of the Laughing tree?"

"I was slightly smaller, your grace." The blue-eyed man responded, seemingly confused.

"Slightly smaller. Ser Barristan, you surely remember the first time myself and the Queen held court?" The man nodded, while his mother turned her head, stopping her conversation with his cousin, Ashara Dayne momentarily.

"I do, your grace. I was the one guarding her grace that day."

"And tell me, you surely remember how the Queen was deepening her voice for those first times?" His father said with an easy smile, while his mother flushed red in her seat. Rhaegar had no idea why his father was speaking of those times, but something kept him focused on the conversation.

"I don't think I noticed such, your grace..." The ever-humble Ser Barristan clearly lied, to protect the honour of his mother.

"I do." Ser Gerold said with a smirk. "I believed it did cause some confusion." The man held a chuckle, while his mother gave him a glare. Father chuckled, turning his head to smile at mother.

"And, don't you think the voice of the Knight sounded a bit too similar to a woman deepening her voice?" Rhaegar almost cracked as his father reached his conclusion. Ser Gerold blinked for a few moments before he nodded his head slowly.

"A good theory, your grace. But the helmet muffles his voice, so that might be it." Ser Gerold countered.

"Hmmm... I believe we might have to wait for him to be un-horsed if he actually is un-horsed." His father said finally. Rhaegar breathed in, nothing was set in stone yet. But of course, Arthur and Oswell had to ruin everything.

"Your grace, ten dragons that it's a woman." Oswell placed 10 golden dragons in the small table between his father and mother.

"Twenty that's it a man!" Ser Jonothor joined in, dropping his coins on the table. Ever since his father had recovered, these men had been transformed in the most comfortable, care-free Kingsguard that had existed since Corlys Velaryon took the white.

"Fifty that it's a woman." Arthur dropped his coins with a grin. He was betting that much because he actually knew who the Knight was since Rhaegar had told him she was sneaking in. _That bastard._

"Louis, could you go fetch ten dragons for me?" His mother called, clearly entertained by the White Swords. His father always, let them do it, but Rhaegar knew his father held a deep dislike of gambling. His family's ever loyal, decade-old servant nodded and soon returned with ten dragons from the coffer.

The herald called again, for Lyanna and a knight of House Blount. Once again, they repeated their bows and both took place. His father seemed strangely attentive to the round, and his eyes followed the movement of the horses. Blount missed, while Lyanna's lance broke on him, although the stout knight didn't fall, with so much fat in his body that it would threaten to spill out of his armour.

Once again, they rode, and this time, Lyanna broke the man's stance and he fell. Once again, she repeated her play.

"Ser Blount, I only ask that you teach your squire honour!" She shouted again, much stronger this time, and the crowd cheered louder and louder, while the Blount knight dragged his horse off the field, grabbed a whip and pushed his squire off the field, whip in hand.

"Another one for the mystery knight." His mother said, leaning slightly on his father.

"He surely is interesting. He depends more on his steed and his agility than on his lance and his strength."

More riders came, and time continued. He spoke with Arthur and the others, while his parents handled the tourney, mostly his mother. One thing, however, drew his attention. A servant came up silently and placed a cup of tea in the small table between his parents. Mother tensed and stiffened and ignored it for a while, until father leaned up, whispered something in her ear and she picked it up and drank it as fast as possible, grimacing all the while. Afterwards, her mood fell and she ended up leaving sooner than normal. _Is father forcing mother to drink moon tea?_

"Ah, here he is again."

Lyanna and a man wearing the Towers of the Freys came into the field, both heading to the front and once again, bowing. He had seen Frey joust many times and for a man of Walder Frey's brood, he certainly wasn't a bad jouster. The horn sounded, and they rode. Lyanna charged hard, she tried to duck and thrust her lance into the man's shoulder, but Frey moved faster and hit his lance on her ribs. He winced and saw her dive back, but she held onto the reigns and moved back into position, trotting to the end of the field. She was hurt, that much was clear. The horn was sounded again, and this time, the man didn't escape Lyanna. She hit him right in the chest and he fell backwards, and once again she rode victorious, although much slower. The Frey man didn't even bother to offer his horse, already knew what was coming, Lyanna once again shouted.

"I only ask that you teach your squire honour!". And with that, she once again turned to the camps, and he knew she was probably smirking under her helmet. But that didn't last long.

His father rose from his chair and rose his hand in the direction of the guards. Suddenly, the spearmen guarding the small passageway to the camps locked their weapons just as Lyanna was about to pass. Confused, she turned around and trotted back.

"Ser Knight, you have won many victories this day and it seems that our people love you the best of all the jousters of this day." His father started to speak and Rhaegar went pale. His father would order Lyanna to remove her helmet. Lyanna was his friend and a innocent girl and she was headstrong. She would probably run, if father ordered it.

Rhaegar moved to speak, but Arthur placed a hand on his arm, silencing his words before they were uttered. The King didn't need to have his own son challenged him in front of the whole realm, he told him silently.

"And for that, I would ask you remove your helmet, so that we can see the face of this day's champion." His father finished, a hand on the railing and another inside his coat. Various shouts erupted amidst the crowd, but none stronger than the one of Robert Baratheon.

"Your grace, if he refuses, I will unmask him for you myself!".

Lyanna stiffened and turned her head to the entrance. _Seven curse me, she's about to run. _He knew that his father wouldn't have mercy if she challenged his authority in public. He caught her eye and nodded his head, trying to make her understand that the King would do nothing to her. Lyanna turned to his majesty, face lowered. _She must probably be in a panic right now._

"Yo-Your grace... I request to do so in private, to you and those you deem fit." Lyanna asked, no, she begged, voice broken and light, even if muffled by his helm. His father didn't flinch, didn't move until he suddenly released his hand from the railing.

"Your request will be granted." He got on his feet, following his father and the Kingsguard out. Soon, they met the Knight of the Laughing Tree, escorted by the two same guards, following them.

Soon, they found themselves in the main section of the royal tent, where they found his mother with Viserys and his Lannister dwarf friend, Tyrion. She ordered a maid to escort them outside and then sat next to father, awaiting any explanation as to why so many people were in her tent.

"Now, you may remove your helm." His father ordered and his eyes widened as the Knight of the Laughing tree revealed himself.

* * *

Thank you for reading! Once again, I apologize for the writting, because I feel it could have been much better!


	8. The Mask falls

Albinoghost: Well, thank you, but about the citadel, you will have to wait and see!

Therealrane: Thank you again!

* * *

**Rhaella Targaryen**

"May I ask what is wrong, your grace?" The soft voice of Ashara asked as she brushed her hair after she fled from the stands. She sighed, leaning back againt's her chair, she thought if she should tell her Dayne cousin about her troubles. Ashara had been like a daughter to her and Aerys, ever since her father had sent her to King's Landing to serve as her lady-in-waiting. Still, only talking about this topic made her want to vomit. The moontea she had been drinking, drinking againt's her will, all because of Aerys's doubting himself constantly and his paranoia about more dead children and what he called the "useless" risking of her life. He was denying her what she wanted, and even what he himself wanted. More children, more children for their family. When need and want finally combined into one, his paranoia had ruined everything. Only thinking about it made her want to break something.

"I am fine, lady cousin, although I thank you for your concern." She said emptily, hoping Ashara wouldn't continue and rest her mind for at least a while. But catch on she did, as she stopped brushing her hair and staring at her eyes through the mirror, purple on purple.

"Your grace, are you sure? You seem..." The woman took a few seconds to come up with a word. "Disturbed." She set a hand in her shoulder, rubbing it absently. Rhaella, annoyed, looked at her and sneered. Ashara, however, hid her mouth with her hand and laughed.

"You are laughing at your queen."

"I am laughing because of the face you're making, your grace." She frowned at her cousin. _I should never have let this girl get too comfortable. _She frowned deeper, decided to not tolerate being laughed in her face, her, the queen, by her own cousin no less.

"Why are you drinking moontea, may I ask?" Her frown fell, replaced by surprise. How did Ashara guess that was moontea? Her surprise didn't as long, though. Despite her disapproval, Ashara wasn't a maiden, she hadn't been for a long time, in fact. She had to avoid getting pregnant, though, as that knowledge crept up her mind. She decided to answer... She did want to ask someone for advice.

"The King does not want to have another child." She said, looking down. Ashara sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Why would his grace not want that? Everybody knows the king always wanted children." Ashara asked, a brow raised. It was common knowledge that she and Aerys had always worked for many children. They would have had ten children by now if her body had not spurned and she had been more fertile. Tears started to well in her eyes as the names of her dead children flowed through her mind.

"He does not want to risk me in another pregnancy, that he says will probably end like most others." She spat out before she broke.

"It's sweet that he cares about you like that, but... I can see that is not what you wanted, your grace."

"Of course it isn't. I want children. Children that are able to survive my womb." She hid her face in her hands then, falling into tears. Ashara brushed her hair, humming a gentle song.

"Worry not, my queen. I can speak with his grace if you wish." She offered.

"Don't. He might get angry at you."

"He wouldn't. Aerys loves me like his own child, you know it, Rhaella." Ashara tried to comfort her, but it wouldn't work.

"He says it's too risky. He thinks it's his fault."

"It's nobody's fault. The Gods took them for a reason, and neither of you should blame yourselves for it."

"I think I just have to give it some time. He's finally grown out of his fear for touch. Maybe he will grow out of... this." She said to her little cousin, her voice filled with hope. Ashara, despite being much younger than her, had been a relief ever since she lost Doreah and Joanna. Doreah had moved back to Dorne, doing her duty to the Seven Kingdoms and Dorne by ruling it after her father died. Joanna, well, many thought she had sent her away bitterly, but both Rhaella and Joanna knew that it was for her good. At the time, Aerys's obsession over her was increasing day by day, and it almost ruined his relationship with Tywin Lannister, a man Rhaella never liked one inch off. Plus, Ashara had been neglected by her widowed father and had been given over to them, and she and Aerys finally had a daughter for themselves, despite Ashara already being an adult. Ashara had been awarded much more freedom that Rhaella herself had, and for that, she was thankful. Ashara had gained a lot of experience with the failed relationships she had built over time and she had quickly become the chief of Rhaella's ladies.

"Im sure he will. You and the King haven't been the most... silent of couples." Ashara gave her a sly smirk and she felt herself heat.

"Do not talk of such about your King and Queen." She escaped the situation. She hadn't come to realise how much noise she and Aerys made until poor Ser Gerold had been forced by Viserys to confess to the prince's own parents that he couldn't sleep because of them. She had made sure that they kept quiet since then.

"And what about you and Lord Eddard?" She asked and smiled when she saw Ashara stiffen.

"He's just a friend." Ashara waved her hand, hiding the blush creeping at her cheeks with a turn of the face. Rhaella still saw it, however.

"I never saw you blush because of a friend before. Do you have feelings for him?" She asked, honestly. Maybe she could finally settle down with this second son of Lord Stark. It wasn't a bad match, not bad at all.

"I-I... Don't have, at least not yet. He just... intrigues me." Ashara finally turned, her brows furrowed as she looked down at her knees. Rhaella took her hands and squeezed them.

"I've never seen you like this before. Something must have happened at least." She rose a brow, waiting for an answer. Ashara sighed and looked at her in the eye.

"I've never seen such an innocent and green man. He asked me to marry him the first time we met. But thing is, it was an honest question, not like all the courtiers in King's Landing." Ashara spoke slowly... And truly, for Rhaella was also the queen of the liars she spoke of.

"And what did you say?" She said with a chuckle. She didn't take the quiet wolf for such a green boy. Lord Arryn must have taught him too much honour in the Vale.

"I said it wouldn't be so bad marrying a man like him." Ashara smiled a sad smile at her ". He did, eventually, apologize after we met again. Said he had been drinking something and he was afraid he might have dishonoured me." She said and Rhaella swore she could hear the disappointment in her voice.

"Enough of that. I will have Aerys speak on your behalf to this Stark lordling. I can see you like him. At least better than all the others."

"It's still a bit soon."

"It is. But it's due time you were wed, my lady." She rose to her feet, making her rise as well.

...

"My queen, I have come to warn you that the King comes for the tent." The servant girl curtsied and quickly left.

"So soon?" Ashara asked as she tied the laces of her dress around her back, a classic Targaryen gown of red and black.

"Hmm... Something must have happened for them to come over so soon." She rose from her chair and quickly left her room with Ashara behind her.

When she reached the main section, she found Tyrion and Viserys playing, as she had left them doing. Despite his appearance and size, Tyrion and Viserys had quickly bonded over their common love of dragons. It took a long time of convincing Tywin of allowing the boy to come, he truly despised the small imp, even if he was his and Joanna's. He eventually allowed him to come, but he kept him hidden and under guard most of the time.

She told the boys to cease their ruckus, eventually making them both sit in the small table reserved for children. She sat on her make-shift throne, waiting for Aerys and the Kingsguard.

A few moments later, to her surprise, Aerys came in with the Kingsguard and Rhaegar, along with some courtiers that followed that piled up outside the tent. Behind all of them, came the Knight she recognized from earlier, something about a tree. Indeed, the knight had made a small name for himself in only a day.

Aerys came up and sat beside her, leaning up to whisper in her ear. She was still angry with him, forcing her to drink moon tea in front of so many people.

"Rhaella, are you alright?" He whispered gently, placing a hand in her leg as his breath tickled her neck and ear.

"Im fine. What all of this about?" She asked, looking over as the Knight stood before them.

Aerys didn't answer her, he turned instead to the rather small knight.

"Now, you may remove your helm." Aerys did the classic wave of his hand as he ordered the Knight to unmask himself. Ah, so that what they were doing. The whole room held their breath as the Knight pushed the helm off his head, and soon, waves of dark brown hair started cascading out of it, fixing themselves at the shoulders. A long face marked with plump, red lips and grey, misty eyes revealed a scared woman, trembling for what could possibly be done to her.

Rhaella noticed Aerys looking at her with wide eyes, probably assessing the situation in his head. The daughter of one of the great lords of Westeros, managing to sneak herself into the Royal tournament. It could cause many problems with House Stark and the North if the situation slipped off this room.

"Lady Lyanna." Aerys greeted, still in shock. He knew the men had betted it was a woman, but they certainly did not expect her to be a lady or even one of a great House.

"Yo-Your grace." The girl responded with a stutter, she was probably scared for her life.

"I must admit, it surprises me discovering that a mystery knight who defeated three experienced jousters is a woman. And a lady of a great house." Aerys said calmly, although Rhaella recognized that he was nervous with the possible political ramifications this could have.

One thing was certain, she thought. This girl was brave.

"I was only defending the honour of my father's bannermen." She spat out, quickly flinching as she probably said something she didn't plan to speak.

"The honour of your father's bannermen?" She spoke this time, resting her arm on top of Aerys's one.

"Yes, your grace. Some southerne- I mean, squires under Knights decided to attack Howland Reed, lord of Greywater's Watch and a bannerman to my father. I protected only the honour of my family and the Kingdom." Lyanna pleaded.

"You could have simply reported to us, we would have dealt with it. The Reed's and Starks are our bannermen, lady Stark, and we protect our own." Aerys said loudly, Rhaella saw the girl visibly relax. "I still do not understand how fancying yourself a Knight was seeking justice."

The girl must have felt her legs fall from under her because the look she gave them spoke only of shame.

"I thought it would be best to shame them on the field, your grace." She explained her situation with a meek voice. To have been caught in such, with seven Kingsguard and the royal family watching must have been greatly humiliating. It was only now that she noticed Rhaegar's uncomfortable shifting, as he looked between his father and the Stark girl.

Aerys rose to his feet, approaching the girl silently. By the tapping of his fingers together, Rhaella understood he was thinking.

"To avoid shaming in front of the whole Kingdom, we shall find a replacement to your position. Meanwhile, you will have to promise never to wear armour or steel again." He said to the girl's utter relief.

"I swear, your grace. I did not mean to..." She was interrupted by Aerys.

"Furthermore, you will not return to the North after the tourney ends. You will go to King's Landing. You shall be informed better in two or three days." Aerys told her with tact of finality, using the -Kingly- voice she used to mock him for. The girl looked like her whole world had fallen, wanting to retort. Aerys composition didn't allow for.

Soon, most people had left, with Rhaegar leading the girl away to some chambers for her to change, the Kingsguard returning to do their duties. Rhaella looked at her husband's back, as they returned to their chambers.

What exactly what Aerys planning?

* * *

There! Thank you for reading!


	9. A Raven and a Lance

Well, sorry for the lateness! Here's another chapter! Today the tourney reaches its end!

* * *

**Rhaegar Targaryen**

The walk to Lord Whent's solar, currently occupied by his father, was quiet and solemn. Oswell and Arthur followed silently behind him, the White Swords casting wary glances to the men and women that passed by them. He himself wasn't too worried about them, no assassination attempt had been made on his family for at least twenty years if the theories about Summerhall being an assassination plot were to be correct. If not, that would make the time scale even longer. Summerhall. He hadn't visited the place of his birth for 4 years, even since the reconstruction started. He wanted to bring his mother there, for she was truly excited about the place being ready. His father wasn't as much, saying the place held bad memories for him, but he would rebuild Harrenhall if mother asked, so it was decided they would head to Summerhall a month after they reached King's Landing.

He found Ser Lewyn and Ser Gerold guarding the door, both men standing silent on the opposite sides of the door. He approached, greeting both men with a nod. He saw Ser Gerold open the door, greeting the man inside.

"Your grace, Prince Rhaegar is here." He heard his father's voice respond.

"Let him in, Ser Gerold." Ser Gerold nodded, standing outside and gesturing him in.

"Arthur, Oswell." He nodded, the words of their orders not needed. These were some of the most experienced Kingsguard the realm had ever witnessed. They would know their duty. He stepped inside his room, coming to stand before his father, greeting with a nod. His father looked up, gesturing for him to sit.

"Son. " His father gave him a smile and a nod, which he returned. He saw his father's right-hand touch a letter briefly before he rested his hand on a small Targaryen banner adorning the table. "How are you?"

"I am fine, father. Just a bit tired, that's all." He picked up the goblet of water his father always kept in his rooms. Father didn't drink wine, not since Duskendale. Only water, and sometimes juice, when mother forced him. His father nodded his permission and Rhaegar took a sip from it.

"That will not do. Today is the day, my son. A tourney with representatives of all the Great Houses. Ironborn and Northern participants, something that has never been seen. You have to win, for the honour of our house." His father was cold in his encouragement, although the smile in his father's face encouraged him further.

"I will be jousting againt's some of the best knights in the realm, father. My first joust of the day will be againt's the Bronze Royce." He told his father, who only shook his head in disagreement.

"And that is why you must win. Royce is a known tourney jouster, a proud lord and a good man. If you can beat such a massive man, you will beat all of them. Even the Kingsguard." His father eyed the door momentarily, pressing his lips together. Rhaegar's mind immediatly drifted to Barristan, Rhaegar and Ser Oswell. All three men had reached the final rounds, and all three were great jousters, especially Ser Barristan.

"Do you really believe I can beat Arthur or Ser Barristan?" He asked his father, who only nodded in immediate agreement.

"Of course. You are my son. You have a great mind and a good sword arm. I've seen you hold lances since you were twelve. You will them. Arthur is definitely the better sword, but you are the better lance. And Ser Barristan, he will prove a challenge, but I have faith in you."

"Thank you father. I will try my best." He took another sip of the water, under the careful look of his father. He caught his fathers eyes, that vibrant violet that could charm quickly and scare even faster.

"You have been spending a lot of time with the Starks, I hear." The words that floundered out of his father's mouth made him almost spit his water. It was true, he had indeed been spending a lot of time with House Stark. Making amends with Lyanna, dealing with a very excited Benjen and trying to fix the quarrel that had happened between Lord Brandon and Lord Eddard.

"I have, as you told me." He answered diplomatically. His father tapped his fingers againt's the side of his goblet.

"Good. I hope the Stark girl wasn't very saddened by the news that her knightly exploits weren't going to be recognized, hmm?"

"Indeed she wasn't. She's rather happy to not have that much attention on her." He gulped down his water. He had been spending even more time with Lyanna since her father found out. Only a few people knew of her identity as the Knight of the Laughing tree, and all were either Targaryens or swords sworn to them, so the secret hadn't escaped. He had grown closer to Lyanna very fast, using his father's command to spend more time with the Starks to play, talk, be with her, really. They had grown to be good friends, he thought. He even had an idea to crown her queen of love and beauty.

"Varys informed me that you have been spending a lot of time with Lyanna Stark." This time he did choke on his drink. He quickly wiped at it, using a handkerchief on the table, looking panicked at his father who was smiling.

"What? Do not be so surprised, Rhaegar. My own father did the same to me." His father chuckled and he himself felt a smile creep to his lips. He imagined his father having the same conversation with his grandfather, that Rhaegar didn't remember meeting. Jaehaerys the second of his name hadn't reigned long, dying of sickness.

"I hope you did not dishonour her." He immediatly shook his head, going on defence.

"Of course not. We are just friends. I find her special and sweet." He explained his father, who for the most part, remained impassive.

"Are you fond of each other?" Rhaegar rolled his eyes, feeling awkward at having to speak to his father about a girl. Not that he'd been with many, despite many women wanting to be with him.

"I believe we are."

"Good. You better prepare, because you two are going to need to get fonder of each other very quickly." His father's ruthless words made him immediatly look up, pushing some of his hair away from his eyes. _No, he cannot mean that..._

"You can't mean that..."

"I do. You are going to marry the Stark girl in two months." His jaw dropped, but he immediatly regained his composure, although he couldn't help but shift uncomfortably in his chair.

"You told me I could choose." He tried to argue with his father. He did not mind Lyanna, now that he thought about it truly. She certainly was a beauty and a great friend, but she didn't want the responsibility. She only wanted to be free. And being a princess certainly came with its responsibilities.

"I did. You took too long. And I did choose a girl you are fond of, did I not?" His father cocked an eyebrow, looking at him. He only gulped the last water that remained in his goblet, setting it in the table again.

"Are you going to make us marry without her father's permission? The Starks have never taken much interested in the South. And they wanted a Targaryen princess to marry one of theirs, not a woman of theirs to marry a Targaryen man." His father immediatly shut down his argument.

"Lord Rickard clearly is not like past Starks. I am sure you have noticed it already, Rhaegar." His father said first, placing a hand on the letter in the table afterwards. "And Lord Rickard has already agreed." He raised the letter, handing it over to him. He saw the broken seal, a snarling Direwolf.

"Read it." He unfolded the letter, silently reading it over.

_Your grace,_

_I do have to admit that your request pleases me. It would be a great honour for House Stark to join in marriage with House Targaryen, and I am sure my daughter will live up to the title of the future queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I do have some requests for the agreement. __It is of my knowledge that the Crown has been investing in Lord Quellon Greyjoy's attempt as changing the Ironborn and reforming the Iron Islands. New ships, attempts at convincing the Ironborn to plant crops and wood, sending septons to the Iron Islands. The North, too, needs investment._

_\- In greater priority, we ask that the crown send men North to refurbish the Causeway and the King's road, from Castle Black to Winterfell all the way to King's Landing. It would greatly help in trading our resources south and with the importing of food North to feed the people during the winter. Secondly, funds to invest in mines in the Northern mountains, for the wood industry in the Wolfswood, for the staring of operations to mine silver recently discovered in lands near Winterfell and in Cape Kraken. Money for building an outpost along the two sides of the Fever, along with more trade from King's Landing to White Harbour._

_\- And if your grace would bless us more, funds to help with the reconstruction of Moat Cailin, two other docks in White Harbour, the rebuilding of ruined Holdfasts and some Northern castles and keeps, including Winterfell. I do also wish to inform your grace of my intent to form a Northern fleet, with the construction of a Northern harbour in the Stony Shore._

_I do hope we can come to a good agreement. May Westeros be truly united with a union of Ice and Fire._

_ Rickard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Lord Paramount and Warden of the North._

"Lord Stark is certainly of a different breed of wolf. How much will his demands cost?" He looked up, ignoring the discomfort of this being about Lyanna and him. He was to be a King, and this could very well change Westeros forever.

"Around four million golden dragons. With the optional requests included." His father placed his hands below his chin, resting his head on them.

"Requests you are going to grant?" He asked his father, who nodded.

"Of course. It was only time the North was given its due attention. If Lord Quellon and Lord Harlon succeed in the Iron Islands, and we manage to build a bridge between southerners and northerners, our reign will be only greater. And the greater mobility of troops in the North will allow House Stark to collect it's banners faster, which means greater help if we ever come to war. Also, I do hope you read the note I sent you about the Stepstones." His father rose to his feet.

"I did. Should we worry about this pirate King?"

"Not yet."

An eery silence stretched over the room afterwards, his father looking out of the window, thinking. Rhaegar rang a small bell, and soon servants flooded into the rooms, bringing drink and food.

"Is the young wolf lord doing well in his new station?" His father suddenly broke the silence. Father was referring to Benjen, who father had ordered to start squiring under Ser Barristan. Lord Brandon had protested, saying that Benjen was of the North and shouldn't be squiring, but a clear order from his father had broken the man's annoying chatter. Rhaegar understood now that placing Lord Stark's youngest son squiring under a Kingsguard was another way to win Rickard Stark over.

"He is. Ser Barristan says he is energetic, honourable and dedicated."

"Good. Is was due time that we had a Wolf Knight." His father chuckled silently, Rhaegar following in.

His father turned, coming over the table and taking a sip from his fresh goblet.

"And what's this I heard about someone dishonouring Ashara?" Rhaegar looked up and gulped, seeing the grim look and the pressing of lips together. Aerys Targaryen wasn't very pleased with the new, certainly no.

"Brandon Stark tried to sneak into Ashara's rooms after Oswell told him the orders about his younger brother." Rhaegar explained, remembering the scene it had caused. Thankfully, Ashara had handled it well.

"I thought it was the middle son who was interested in Ashara?"

"He is. Or at least was. I found Ashara crying over Eddard Stark this morning." He remembered going over to invite Ashara for breakfast with him and mother, when he found her crying in her bed, saying that Eddard Stark had cut her off, thinking that she had bedded his own brother.

"And why was she crying over the wolf pup? Has that foolish girl taking a liking to the man?" His father said the words calmly, but Rhaegar knew well that now was not the time so speak rashly. Aerys Targaryen loved Ashara Dayne like a daughter of his own seed, and his father was fearsome in wroth. None wanted to see the King angry. _One should never wake the dragon._

"I think she has. The boy is green, and it seems he has made Ashara behaved like a young maiden instead of a grown woman. She cries over being rejected since the man thinks she bedded his older brother."

"I certainly hope she didn't." His father didn't allow him time to respond.

"Ser Gerold." His father shouted. Ser Gerold quickly trotted into the room, bowing before the King.

"Order one of the Kingsguard to go to the Stark tents. Brandon Stark will have left Harrenhal for Winterfell by tomorrow morning." His father nodded and Ser Gerold bowed, quickly leaving the room and starting to distribute orders to the other white swords.

"You should go fix the situation for your cousin. Have the Stark girl see it your way." His father came over and patted him in the shoulder. Rhaegar quickly got on his feet.

"Good luck out there, son. I and your mother will be watching you."

He smiled at his father, bowing before he left the rooms.

All three guards, Ser Lewyn, Ser Gerold and Arthur greeted him with a "My prince." He could see that Oswell had been the one ordered to the Stark tents. He greeted them all with a "Ser's", leaving the halls, prepared to receive his best friend's teasing.

* * *

**Lyanna Stark**

"It's not her fault, Ned." She, Benjen and Ned were in their pavilion, preparing for the last day of the jousting. Brandon was outside training and preparing with his foolish squires for his joust. Ned sat on his bed, face grim and broken like it had been these last few days, and Benjen was finishing his breakfast, eating some soup a servant had brought in from Lord Whent's kitchens.

Ned only shrugged his shoulders, rubbing his thumb over his opposite hands knuckles.

"Ned, are you going to listen to me?" She called for her brother again, fuming in annoyance. Her older brother eventually turned his head to him, his face harder and stone-faced.

"The woman isn't at fault, brother. You know very well it isn't a surprise Brandon tried something with her, Eddard, but you have to believe her when she tells you she didn't allow Brandon to squirt his seed into her belly. Rhaegar confirmed her words and the King will punish Brandon." She sighed, hoping to get a reaction out of him. Yesterday morning, Lyanna, Ned and Benjen had woken up to Brandon and his squires picking up swords and shouting for Northmen, and Lyanna went outside to find Dornish and Crownlander calling Brandon to be punished for his crimes. Lord Jason Darklyn, the forgiven brother of the late Lord Denys, lead a group of knights and lords, asking justice for the supposed attempted rape of the King's goddaughter, perhaps attempting to regain the favour his family lost under his brother. Brandon cried out that it was the girl that had tried to force herself on him, and that the supposed smack he had given her was in self-defence.

The tension was palpable, but Rhaegar's arrival had forced both sides to stand down. Rhaegar had taken a crying Ashara Dayne, Ned and Brandon to the Godswood of Harrenhall, where they talked but some minutes before all three men came out, Rhaegar quickly leading Lady Dayne back to the royal tents. Brandon and Ned had then argued in their tent, and despite Ned's clear doubt, Brandon had convinced him that the woman wanted nothing of him and had tried to force herself on Brandon.

Then came the news just as they were starting their breakfast. The King had ordered that Brandon leave Harrenhall just after the tourney, while Lyanna, Benjen and Ned were to stay in the Black Castle. Bran had raged all through breakfast, eventually going off, saying that the King couldn't possibly send him away if he won, smirking as he went.

Sometimes didn't know what to do with Brandon. She loved Brandon with all her heart, but sometimes, he was simply too crazy for her to tolerate.

"You heard Brandon. She tried to straddle him, to taste a "true wolf" as she said." The words came bitterly out of his mouth. "I should have known no woman would choose me over Brandon." Ned finished with a painful sigh.

"Ned, Ashara Dayne isn't Jorelle. The woman could have had Brandon in the start, instead, she chose to talk, walk and spend entire afternoons with you. Do you truly believe that she would do that to Bran? To you?"

"I..." Ned looked at her, in clear pain. _How could he fall in love with this woman so quickly._

"You need to go get a bath and get out of this tent. You will have more time to think when we reach the tourney grounds." She nodded at him, with a playful grin, as she started pushing Ned to his feet.

"You too, Benjen. Go get a bath, you reek." Ben grumbled under his breath, quickly following to call servants to fill another bath-tub.

Lyanna herself had already bathed and dressed. She wanted to see the tourney, for her brother and Rhaegar. Brandon, she mostly wanted to see him lose to the Southrons, to kick his vain pride into the dirt. And she wanted to see Rhaegar participate, knowing that he'd defeated half-a-hundred foes to reach the finals.

She went to her part of the tent, looking at herself in a mirror. She wore a blue gown, offered by her father at her last nameday. It shaped nicely around her curves, but it wasn't too tight, and she loved the bright blue of its colour. She went to the couch, waiting for her brothers to get ready. Lyanna didn't bother much with what she'd wear to the joust. It was just a simple joust, and she was more interested in the participants than the joust itself. She wanted to see Barristan Selmy, Gerold Hightower, Rhaegar, all those knights famed from Dorne to the wall, displaying their skill for all the realm to see. And she definitely wanted to see Rhaegar in action. Rhaegar made her feel like a pool formed at her stomach, and she couldn't ignore the tingling between her legs every time she saw him with his favourite black doublet sewn by some Lady Velaryon or his black armour. What had this southern prince done to her?

Well, not all was bad... And not all was good. She was going to spend more time with Rhaegar, that she knew. The King was forcing her to go to King's Landing, even after she and Benjen had been allowed to protest to the Queen. The woman only laughed at her begging and told her that she'd love King's Landing.

"Stop your daydreaming." Ned's sad, but not so sad any more voice called from her side.

"Oh, is your humour back, big brother?" She grinned widely, chuckling as she saw a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"His humour is back. And so is yours, it seems. What's the pretty dress for?" Benjen said with a laugh from behind her, quickly moving towards Ned to avoid being smacked by Lyanna. She frowned as her little brother smirked.

"Aye. Ned, I think you're not the only one infatuated with a southerner." Benjen laughed loudly, resting an arm on Ned's shoulder, stopping only when he saw both Lyanna and Eddard scowl at him.

"Well, enough of your jests. We have a joust to bloody attend." She led her brothers out of her tent, moving to the crowds of Northmen, leading them all to the jousting fields. To the disappointment of the Starks, new reached them that they had missed Brandon being knocked to the dirt by the prince of Dragonstone.

She found Brandon, Elbert Arryn, Lysa and Catelyn Tully all sitting together, Brandon still in his dirty armour, looking with eyes full of hatred at the victorious prince of Dragonstone as he was breaking his lances on Arthur Dayne, knocking the Sword of the Morning to the ground.

"Finally you're here. You missed my joust, you peppered fools." Brandon grumbled and Lya smirked as she sat by his side, leaning on him.

"Oh, poor Brandon. Did you enjoy your joust?"

Brandon threw her an angry look, but it was quickly betrayed by his smile.

Benjen and Ned sat beside her, and she saw Ned lower his head, staring at his lap. She jerked her head to the royal stands, and found Ashara Dayne trying to meet her brother's eyes. She quickly elbowed Ned on the side, forcing him to look up at the woman.

"Lya..." Ned chastized.

"At least look at her." Ned sighed but looked at the Dayne maid, while Brandon grumbled.

"I already to-"

"Enough of your bloody arguing. I want to see this." She looked around at the humongous crowd that filled the stands, her eyes trailed down and she looked upon Rhaegar as he prepared his lance againt's his final opponent, Ser Barristan Selmy.

* * *

There! Thank you for reading! Quick one! I feel I could have done a much better job.


	10. The Crowning of the Queen

Well, sorry for the lateness! Here's another chapter! Today the tourney reaches its end!

* * *

**Rhaegar Targaryen**

"So, how do you _plan_ to beat Ser Barristan?" Arthur held himself on Dawn, his sword, using it like a cane as he grinned mischievously at him. Rhaegar smirked back, waving to the skies.

"It seems the Seven have granted me with a streak of luck. So that's exactly how I'll beat Ser Barristan, with luck... and skill. I did beat you." He chuckled softly, looking at his friend who grabbed his belly and howled in laughter. Arthur twisted Dawn up, sliding it back in its scabbard.

"Luck. You think too much of yourself, cousin. I let you win." Arthur shrugged, making a face of innocence while holding back a grin.

"Oh, the noble Sword of the Morning let me win?" Rhaegar smiled at him, setting his gauntlets aside. While he once had squires, namely Elbert, Stannis, Myles and Richard, he had already knighted all of them, and he had mostly prepared his things himself, but Myles did come by and do once more the duty he had as a squire. Still, he did like to prepare some of his things himself. It felt peaceful and allowed him to escape his thoughts.

"Well, of course, I did. His grace would geld us if we stopped you from winning." Arthur said with a chuckle, his white cloak in his hands as he dusted it off. Rhaegar smirked, remembering he was the reason it had dust and dirt on it.

"Then there is your answer about how im going to win." He said with a wide smile, to which Arthur snorted.

He saw Myles coming in, bringing Dusk by the reigns. He nodded at him, and Myles answered with a pat to the shoulder, wishing him good luck as he started to strap his armour on. He saw Arthur return to his serious self, eying Ser Barristan and his new squire, Lyanna's youngest brother, Benjen. Rhaegar sighed, thinking how about his father had quickly crushed his dreams of having a choice. Although he did plan to choose Lyanna, it didn't feel the same. _Just 3 days ago father was promising me I could choose my own bride, he promised mother the same. Now he chose one for me so quickly. _

A servant came to them, saying that it was time. Soon he heard the horns, calling them to place.

Myles finished, Rhaegar headed to Dusk and mounted him, giving his stallion a pat on the side of its neck. Dusk had always stayed true, and he hoped he would stay true once more. Ser Barristan, as fatherly as he was, would take no pity on him during the joust. It would be the hardest fight of the day. Arthur was the best with the sword, but no one could hope to beat Ser Barristan with the lance amongst his brothers in the Kingsguard. He prayed to the Seven and the Gods of Old Valyria for strength.

They both rode to bow before the King. The field was eerily silent, all the men and women focused on what was to happen. The finale to the greatest tournament to have ever happened in Westeros. Rhaegar bowed his head, his eyes meeting with his fathers. His father, hand slightly trembling as always, nodded at him, eyes burning bright. He then looked at his mother and his little brother, who she held on her lap, and his mother gave him an encouraging smile while his Viserys had the goofiest grin on his face. He smiled, looking at his family.

He turned to Ser Barristan and nodded his head, the Knight of the Kingsguard doing the same. Not certain he would win, Rhaegar felt proud he had somehow reached the finals. Ever since his failure at Storm's End, where he'd been unhorsed by Ser Barristan, he'd wanted another chance at the knight, but he knew it wouldn't be easy. Well, if he did win, he would pay Ser Barristan the next score of ale the next time they visited Flea Bottom.

He returned to his spot, Myles giving him the lance quickly. He breathed in and out, but his eyes found their way to the Starks. Lyanna stood there, between her two older brothers. Brandon Stark was talking with Catelyn Tully, his promised bride, while Elbert, who was to Ned's side, gave him an encouraging nod as he looked at him. _Poor Elbert, to see the woman he wants promised to another._ Elbert's uncle, Jon Arryn, wanted him to marry the youngest Tully, Lady Lysa, but Elbert had returned from his trips to Riverrun with Jaime entranced by the oldest. Finally, Lyanna looked at him and, with steel in her eyes and a warm smile, flamed his ambitions of victory. _I will win. For her. And I will crown her my queen. _

His eyes still there, he found a tired man in Stark colours run with something in his hand. _A scroll. _Was this from Lord Stark? Would Lyanna know... How would she react... Or maybe she already knows? His thoughts didn't linger too long, as the horns sounded, starting the joust. He quicked Dusk's sides and rode to meet Ser Barristan.

He pushed his lance forward, hitting Ser Barristan in the right shoulder while he managed to escape Selmy's lance. The crowd still silent, Rhaegar didn't need to look back to know Ser Barristan had not fallen. He turned and was handed another lance.

"His shoulder, Rhaegar. His shoulder. Keep pressing." Myles patted Dusk's neck, as the horns sounded again and once again he rode. His eyes only on Ser Barristan, his view turning blood red as he pushed forward with a loud roar. He felt the impact of something in his chest but managed to grab onto Dusk's reigns, tripping to the side. He felt his breath go ragged, his insides warm with pain and heat.

"Myles, water... Bring me water..." Myles brought him the water, and Rhaegar took his helmet off and took long, strong gulps, enjoying the refreshment. His chest ached a little less. Myles took the flask, smiling widely.

"Ser Barristan feel, my prince! You've won!" Myles shouted loudly, and only now did the shouts, cheers and shrieks of the crowd enter Rhaegar's ears. He turned, watching Ser Barristan standing up. Rhaegar rode to him, helping the man up. Despite the loud screams, he managed to hear Ser Barristan's sincere congratulations as he helped the Kingsguard up. The crowd riled up by such a display of chivalry.

Time slowed down for him, as his eyes drifted to Lyanna. But his mind was invaded by something else, thoughts he had lost long ago. Ever since he had learned to put letters together to form words, and how to read the words he formed, he had always been passionate about the prophecies told about his family since the days of the fifth Aegon, on the great doom that was coming, on the blood that would bring the dawn. His great-uncle Duncan, the prince of Dragonflies, had married the fair maid Jenny that he found in Oldstones, and Jenny brought a woods witch she had known during her times as a peasant to court. His father spoke of that day as the day that ruined him, of the day that had almost brought their family to the flames of utter ruin. The prince that was promised, a prince that would save Westeros from the coming darkness. He had thought that this prince was him when he was young, but his father and mother had, even before his father had humbled, united to as his royal mother like to say, snap him out of it. They said that the cursed words of that witch should not define him, as that his destiny belonged only to himself and House Targaryen.

But, looking at Lya, something seemed to tick. Rhaegar saw a line of silver material run trough the sleeves in her dress, and he thought of his beloved silver harp, and the sweet music that he so loved to play. But, there was one song, that Westeros had not heard before. A song that was written in legend and would only come in the future, bringing with it the prince that was promised. The Prince of Ice and Fire. The Targaryens were fire, but all knew, and the Starks, as the southerners said were as cold as their land of ice and snow. Even the pact that promised a Targaryen princess to a Stark man was called the Pact of Ice and Fire...

Rhaegar shook his head. Such ideas could be thought upon after this. As tradition demanded, he rode a full circle around the grounds, until he eventually stopped in front of the King, his father, who looked down at him with the same, controlled gaze he always kept during public and serious events. If his father was proud of him, it didn't show on his face.

"It seems the Seven Kingdoms have a winner!" Rhaegar breathed out in relief. The Kings face was still it's usual self, lips pressed together, but even Rhaegar could taste the pride and small joy in his father's voice. He smiled and waved to the crowd, again. He was sure he heard the loud sighs of some of the women and he allowed a smile to come to his lips. The crowd was cheering like they were in a fair, the cheers, whistles and claps and praises for him becoming uncomfortable, even.

"Rhaegar Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne, I name you champion of this tourney. May the father always protect and guide you. Alas, it is now time for you to choose a queen." All voices suddenly went silent. All eyes were on him, as Lord Whent place the crown of blue roses on the tip of his lance. They know what this means... Or meant. Their future queen is to be chosen.

Rhaegar bowed his head and turned his horse, and slowly, Dusk walked to the grounds... He looked at the people he passed trough, the Dornish, the Iron Islanders, the Reachmen, the Westermen... He saw Cersei Lannister rise to her feet, smirking widely. He looked at her, confused, still holding a tight grip on his lance. _Wait, she thinks im going to crown her? _Rhaegar only rode faster, coughing awkwardly. He certainly did not expect her to do this. He heard the crowds rile up in laughter after he passed the men of the West, a rather booming voice coming after the Arryns and Starks. His cousin Robert was laughing like a madman, and Stannis was trying to shut him up. He kept riding, smiling widely, observing Lady Cassana give her oldest son a slap in the back of the head. But, it was not a Storm he was after, but a wolf. He slowed down his horse, after he passed the Arryns and Dusk as if he could read his mind stopped right in front of the Starks, and those with them. He looked up, eyes glassy. He was nervous, really. She knew he wanted her freedom, and she might feel like he planned this, to take it. He truly didn't. He saw Elbert give an encouraging smile, and he turned his eyes to the she-wolf.

Lyanna was staring at him, blushing and confused. She held a small frown on her lips, that contrasted rather beautifully with the blush and the furrow of her brows. He moved his lance forward, and with a slight tug, placed the crown, that looked, oh so northern, on her lap. He looked at her, hoping that, she would not be so angry at him. He saw her hands move slowly to the crown, taking hold of it. She kept looking at it, until a whisper from one of her brothers, who he was too distracted with the pearly beauty in front of him to recognize.

Finally, after some seconds, that to Rhaegar felt like an eternity, Lyanna lifted the crown and slowly placed it on her head. She smiled at him, a small, but soft, warm smile like she gave to him when he'd beat her during their races. Rheagar's breath escaped his chest in a wave, the relief flooding him like he drank the whole narrow sea dry.

The prince, nodded, ignoring the even louder cheers of the crowd, that chanted his name as he rode off, smiling widely, to the tents.

* * *

**Ashara Dayne**

She followed her cousin, the queen, into the Hall of the Hundred Hearths. They were not alone, the rest of the queen's ladies following her, Lady Cersei Lannister, Larra Darklyn, Sylvia Bulwer and finally, young Mariya Darry. Mariya was a real beauty, in Ashara's opinion, not on par with herself, or some of the higher ladies in the realm, but she definitely was pretty and busty enough. The Baratheon of King's Landing, Stannis, who most oft kept around Rhaegar, had his eye on her ever since he saw her at the court. How such a girl managed to melt his heart made of the hardest stone, Ashara could not imagine. She made a mental note to have some of her girls and ladies spy on both Mariya and Stannis. She had a duty to keep her queen informed.

Finally, they reached the smooth floors of Harrenhall's huge, cavernous hall after descending not one, but two galleries. She saw with a smile, as most lords rose and bowed to their queen as they marched, as if in a procession, between the large tables of the hall. She held back her smile, seeing them cower before their queen. A few years ago, when Rhaella was the silent, obedient queen, many of these lords would have not blinked at her direction, and now they would lick her feet just to get in her good graces. Fools, the lot of them. Rhaella only cared about her the realm and her family, and she wasn't very fond of being a court tool anymore. Not that it would be possible since Aerys's cleaning of the court.

Finally, they arrived at the royal platform, and after they delivered proper courtesy to the rest of the royals present, they all sat in their respective places, Ashara sitting next to little Mariya. Cersei and Larra were closer to the queen and Prince Rhaegar and Viserys, Larra talking with the queen and Cersei, she sighed, watching that girl pester her cousin and make a fool of herself again. She had already made herself a fool in the tourney, when she stood up, expecting Rhaegar to crown her queen of love and beauty, but then he just kept riding on. It was quite the scandal, and even Tywin Lannister's presence in Harrenhal stopped the mockery of his daughter.

The first dishes came, and all the families in the seven kingdoms ate and feasted, at the same time. Ashara was proud of her god-father, who actually seemed to have confronted his demons after all. After a time, King Aerys stood up, with his queen, who was radiant alongside him.

"My lords and ladies. As some of you may have already deduced, a new princess shall enter the royal family." He spoke with a grave tone and the room boomed with many ayes. King Aerys turned to the Stark table, where all the Starks present immediatly stood up. Ashara was still mad and sad that the one man she had a real interest in now spurner her, but she couldn't stop a vicious smirk from coming to her face when she noticed that cunt Brandon Stark wasn't present.

"Lady Lyanna. Do step forward." Lyanna stark, shakily and nervously walked around the table, to stand before the king and queen. Rhaegar immediatly stood up as well. The girl, because she was a girl, was dressed in a pretty blue dress with lines of silver on the sleeves and the skirt, and she was proudly wearing the crown of the queen of love and beauty on her head. Her red cheeks, though, revealed how truly nerve-wracking the situation was for her. Ashara held back the want to snicker at her Godfather's lack of tact.

Rhaegar rushed around the table, went to the woman and took her arm, and the girl visibly relaxed. _Are they that acquainted already? _Rhaegar stood tall and handsome as he always did, with a smile on his usually melancholic face. Lyanna Stark also smiled as well, but it was a small, shy smile.

"They shall marry in the Sept of Baelor in but a fortnight. The royal family would like to extend an invitation to all present for the marriage of your future King and Queen." Aerys finished with a small smile and quickly the crowd erupted in cheers. What Lyanna Stark did next, though, broke all courtesy, but thankfully was not heard by the loud lords.

"Your grace, wi-will my father not deliver my own hand?" Lyanna Stark asked in a meek, but brave voice. Aerys backfired at her quickly.

"Your father is riding south as we speak." Lyanna Stark almost shrunk at the aggressive tone. She gulped and nodded weakly, intimated really. She looked like such a wayward girl before, more a boy than a girl, but now she seemed like some blushing maiden. Ah, but that is because she is, a blushing maiden.

"The prince and his betrothed will start the dances of this night. I and the queen shall retire soon." The King finished, and most stood up and walked to stand around the dancing grounds. Rhaegar took his new lady and lead her in a Waltz, and she was visibly hiding her head on his chest. They seemed to be talking sweetly. _At least one of my family members gets the Stark he wants. _Ashara huffed in annoyance, and in truth, sadness.

Dances came and went quickly, and Ashara stood there, sitting, watching. Some men had invited her, but she had refused them all. She wasn't in the mood for it. That was until the little prince, Viserys, came to her and asked her to dance with him. She couldn't deny her little cousin.

"Mother and father want me to go to bed right now, but they can't deny me dancing with you... So pleaaasse?!" Viserys almost begged at her feet. She happily laughed, took his hands and went with him to the dance grounds.

One has to say, dancing with a little boy on a ball filled with handsome, young lords was not what she had been expecting. She and Viserys mostly spun around, the young boy jumping most of the time, but it wasn't that bad. Her cousin was a wild mind and was stepping on Lord and Ladies as they, together happily danced. It certainly was amusing watching Lord and Ladies not be able to complain at the little prince stepping on their feet and getting in their way, and it only made Ashara laugh the louder.

Eventually, like all things, the dance ended, and both she and Viserys returned to the table. Viserys ran to his mother, the queen looking at her youngest child with a fire in her eyes that even scared her. She was about to sit, alone, when she heard a voice behind her.

"My lady."

That voice. That gruff, handsome voice.

"Ned."

She spun around, losing all security. What had this northerner done to her mind.

* * *

There! Thank you for reading! Sorry for the long wait, I've had my exams recently! Here's the finale of the Tourney chapter!


End file.
